When Daryl Met Carol
by AlannasTara
Summary: ""Pretty lookin? Hmmm. I've never heard that one before, but honestly it's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in ages." Her smile was genuine, and he found his footing again. Maybe Merle's one-liners would work for him after all." Non ZA AU. Daryl and Carol meet as two uncomfortable strangers at a wedding.
1. The First Night

_**AN: This was written to stand alone, but I will likely add to it at some point. I have more in my head that needs to be told. Enjoy! [Contains smut] **_

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters. I just use them for my own amusement. :-)**

* * *

She was on her second glass of wine. She fiddled with the stem as she glanced around the room, taking in all of the clinking of silverware, quiet chatter, and sweet, slow music coming from the band.

It was a beautiful wedding. She had to give that to Tara and Alicia. Small and cozy, but classy and stylish. They had both looked stunning standing up in front of their family and friends, pledging their love and lives together.

Carol dabbed at the corner of her eye, the beauty and overwhelming vision of love still making her a bit misty-eyed. Maybe the wine, too. She wasn't used to drinking, her previous relationship having turned her off the stuff, but tonight was special. Plus, it didn't hurt that it was an open bar. Alicia's parents were wealthy and wanted to spare no expense on their daughter's special day.

Carol figured she could use a little help to relax and enjoy herself. She didn't know very many people in attendance and these kind of social situations always made her nervous and uncomfortable, feeling slightly out of place.

She placed her hands beneath the table on her thighs, trying to dry her sweaty palms unnoticed. She was feeling warm, now, and she knew the alcohol was to blame. Heat spread inside her, blooming up her chest and neck, flushing her skin. Thank goodness she was wearing a thin dress. The wispy, short, floaty layers of fabric that just brushed her knees let the air sweep over her heated skin, but it wasn't enough.

Scooting her chair back, she decided to step out on the terrace and get some fresh air. After a moment of hesitation she decided to take her wine glass with her. She needed to have something in her hands to occupy them. It made her feel more secure.

She made her way through the room, smiling briefly at those who managed to make eye contact with her. She needed to escape for just a minute. Just a breath, some space, a moment where she didn't have to have a fake smile plastered on her face. She would do anything for Tara, including attending a wedding where she knew almost no one, and sitting through a reception the appropriate length of time before making her getaway.

She reached the terrace and felt the cool night air rush in to greet her as she opened the door. She audibly exhaled, a slight moan of pleasure on her lips, as she felt the sweat chill against her collarbone. She walked toward the wooden railing at the end of the path overlooking the lake. It was truly a breathtaking sight. The moonlight shone off the ripples in the water and she could listen to the night sounds of nature, here, away from the din of the party.

"Nice night, isn't it?"

She startled at the gravelly voice, interrupting her reverie.

"Yes," she responded, her voice coming out all breathy, as she looked in the bluest set of eyes she'd ever seen.

He was so gorgeous it took her breath away. Not in the conventional, pretty-boy way, but in the rugged, rough and feral way of a "manly-man." It didn't take much for the heated blood already coursing through her body to ignite, pooling warmth and tingling sensations in areas of her body that had not seen action in quite a while.

She was mesmerized by him, and couldn't drag her eyes away from his face. The scruff of his goatee entranced her, his slightly shaggy and messy looking blonde locks pulling her in, hypnotizing her. She had no control over her hand as she raised it to run her fingers lightly through his hair, brushing her fingers over his temple. The sensation of her skin meeting his jerked her back to reality and she backed away quickly, pulling her hand back to lay flat against her stomach.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me. That was just...inappropriate. I didn't mean to invade your space. I-"

"S'alright. S'all good," he cut her off mid-sentence, before running his eyes quickly over her form, admiring her lithe figure, delicate features, and the stormy shade of blue and gray in her eyes, eyes that were still staring at him. Staring right into his soul it seemed.

He wasn't the kind of guy to pick up chicks at bars or weddings, that wasn't his style. He was only here because Alicia had begged him to come and couldn't say no to her. She was his partner on the fire squad, had his back many a time, and he hers. There was no way he'd miss this, but he couldn't wait to leave. Aside from a few other people there from work, he didn't know many of the guests in attendance and he hated crowds of people. He was just biding his time outside until he could make his getaway without being noticed.

Until he saw her. Something about her just drew him to her. He didn't know what came over him. He wasn't like his brother, not smooth with the ladies. He just couldn't stop himself, though, probably the drinks he had with dinner. They had him feeling brave. So when he decided to approach her, no one could've been more surprised than he was.

He took one last drag on his cigarette before dropping it, putting it out with the toe of his boot. Her eyes had dropped to his mouth, staring at his lips. Her heated gaze had him feeling all kinds of somethin' he didn't quite understand. Well, his mind didn't understand, but his body was reacting anyway. How did Merle do this anyway? Usually his brother's style consisted of vomiting flirty one liners all over the place. What the hell? Ain't like I'm gonna see her again.

"Don't mind having a pretty lookin' lady's hands on me," he said, cringing a bit inside, as he emulated his brother. This was not like him at all, but he'd been stealing glances all night, and once he caught sight of her standing in the moonlight, he decided he was going for broke. Until she laughed. He was about to step back when her eyes made their way up from lips back to his.

"Pretty lookin'? Hmmm. I've never heard that one before, but honestly it's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in ages." Her smile was genuine, and he found his footing again. Maybe Merle's one-liners would work for him after all.

"Anybody? Even your date?" Daryl fished for an answer, hoping she was single.

"No date for me tonight. You?" Carol asked, as she set her wine glass on the railing in front of her.

"All alone," he said. "Not that I'm complainin', considerin' the company" he added quickly. He'd get this right if it killed him. And he might have died of embarrassment if she hadn't turned back to him so quickly.

"Me, neither." Carol took another sip of wine and returned her glass to the railing. She unconsciously fanned herself with her hand, trying to cool the heat that wasn't just from the alcohol, anymore, but mortification at her forward behavior, and from the lust coursing unabated through her body. "My only complaint is this weather. I'm so hot."

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he looked her up and down, and they both broke into laughter, shaking off the last of the nervous energy between them. "Yeah, you are," Daryl said when they'd quieted.

Carol stared at his mouth again, those lips just beckoning to her. Look at those lips. God, it's been too long. I need help. Fuck it! Isn't like I'm gonna see him again. Just one night…

She reached up and brushed that same stubborn lock of hair out of his eyes again. "Still alright?"

His eyes locked onto hers and she didn't care about decorum anymore, stopping his half-formed answer with her mouth against his. His hand slipped behind her head, drawing her further in, mouth slanting over hers. It started to get heated, and she pulled back, looking up at him, desire burning in her eyes. She gathered her courage and decided to go for broke.

"You wanna get out of here?"

"Hell yeah."

* * *

She had wrapped her arms around his neck, hands going up though his hair, bringing his lips to meet her. He responded eagerly, wrapping her up in his arms. Her lips met his in a lust-fueled kiss that burned through her like a raging wildfire. She had never done anything like this before, but god, it felt so good, so right. His lips over hers, his tongue invading her mouth, sliding over hers again and again. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and swirled hers around it, and then nipped at his lower lip with her teeth. He growled low in his throat and pulled her even closer to him, his hips pressed up against hers.

She felt his hardness and pulled back, gazing up at him then, wordlessly, took his hand and turned to guide him to her bedroom. Once they reached her room, he hauled back up into his arms, his lips hungrily seeking hers.

Her hands went to the hem of his shirt between them and start lifting it up, parting lips long enough to rip it over his head, and then she had her hands all over the bare skin of his chest. She traced her fingers over his pecs, so well-defined, and slid them down along his sides, feeling his abs beneath her palms, hard and rippling as he moved trying to get closer to her.

He brought his hands around to the back of her dress, sliding the zipper down to her waist before bringing them back up to her shoulders and sliding the straps down her arms. The dress fell to her feet, pooling around her heels. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall as well. She was left in nothing but her underwear, as she leaned forward, her breasts pressed up against his chest, her nipples hardening against the rough texture of his chest hair.

The heat between them was maddening, he was kissing her like he couldn't get enough, and she was trying to wrap herself around him, lifting her leg up and hooking it behind his knee, feeling him pressed against her hip. She moaned into his mouth, and he moved hands to her ass, lifting her up against him, so her legs wrapped around his waist, crossing her ankles, her heels digging into his flesh. He moved to her bed, lowering them both down, scooting up to lay her head on the pillow.

His length was pressed up against her core, his erection nestled in her cleft, the friction between the fabrics rubbing against her clit, and she felt her underwear dampen with her arousal. He ground his hips into her and moaned at the heat he felt against him.

"Take off your pants," she gasped, her voice breathless with her need. She no sooner got the words out than her hands were at his belt, trying to unhook the thing with little success.

"What the fuck is wrong with this thing!"

Daryl chuckled at her curse, seeming so out of place coming from her sweet, little mouth.

"I got it," he moved his hands to his pants, whipping the belt off quickly, unbuttoning his pants, and shoving them down in record speed, boxers along with them. He kicked his shoes off, and then his pants, and returned his attention to Carol.

"You sure?" He was praying to whatever God might be out there that she would say yes, but he'd respect her wishes.

"God, yes. I need you inside me now, fuck me!" She couldn't believe she was talking to him like this. This was not her. She rarely cussed, she wasn't the aggressor during sex, but something about him, something about it being a one time thing, it freed her to be whoever she wanted to be and take what she wanted to take. She had a power she'd never had before, and it was heady and exciting. She didn't have to worry about what he thought of her because she'd never see him again.

He grasped her underwear, pulling them down her legs, and when she went to kick off her heels with them, he stopped her.

"Naw, leave 'em."

Well, that was different. Kinda kinky. She liked it.

He sunk back down over her, bracing himself on one forearm. He lowered his mouth to her breast kissing her pale flesh, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin, making his way to her hardened nipple. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, before closing his mouth around the peak and suckling. She cried out and grabbed his head, fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer, pushing herself into him.

"Harder," she whimpered and he quickly complied with her request. He sucked the tip further into his mouth, lightly nipping it with his teeth, not wanting to hurt her. It was such a relief to him, to be with someone who had no shame in telling him exactly what she wanted. It took the pressure off of him a bit, in knowing how to please her.

Her response was enthusiastic to say the least, writhing beneath him, moans of pleasure escaping her between gasps for breath. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same lavish attention as he slid his hand down between them, seeking out that spot he knew would drive her wild.

His finger reached her cleft and traced it down and into her folds. He groaned when he was instantly drenched in her wetness. He brought his hand back up and began to trace slow circles around that little nub he knew would bring her close to the edge, loving the response he was getting. If possible she became even more wet and he didn't know how much longer he could maintain control.

The combination of sensations assaulting her had mind and body reeling. His mouth on her breast, finger on her clit, she didn't know when she had ever felt so much pleasure from a partner.

Without any warning he slid his finger down to her entrance and plunged it into her warmth, sinking into her. She cried out and jerked her hips up to meet his hand. She was so tight, so hot, and so so wet. He pumped in and out a few times and then added another finger. She moaned loudly, tossing her head from side to side, one hand pulling his hair, the other squeezing the life out of his bicep, her fingertips digging into the muscle.

Feeling her move beneath him like that… the way she clung, the sting of her nails. Her desire was making him want her even more, driving him downward. He kissed his way along her ribs, the soft skin of her stomach, dipping lower and lower toward the wet heat of her. He wanted to know the taste of her, to run his tongue over her and feel her shudder beneath his mouth.

He moved until his head was between her thighs and ran his hands from her ankles up to her knees, gliding over her satiny smooth skin. He lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders, her heels digging into his back. With one arm wrapped around her thigh, he lowered his mouth to her lips and breathed her in, her scent flooding his nostrils. He groaned against her, his lust for her so intense, he nearly vibrated with his need. He pressed his tongue between her folds, tasting her, reveling in the feel of her against him, lapping at her opening.

He had never tasted anything as sweet as she was and he was overwhelmed with the urge to devour her. He buried his face against her, entering her as far as he could reach, thrusting over and over, fucking her with his tongue. Slowly he dragged his mouth back up to her clit, rubbing wide circles around it with the flat of his tongue. He brought his other hand up between them and pushed two fingers into her, moving his fingers against her smooth, wet, silky inner walls, flexing against the tightness.

Her thighs squeezed his head, muffling the sounds she was making, the moans of pleasure and choruses of "Yes," "Right there," and "Just like that." She had never had a lover take so much interest in foreplay, in giving her pleasure like he was. He was moving against her as if he was feasting on her flesh. It was decadent, sinful, and drugging; these sensations roiling through her were pure ecstasy.

He couldn't take anymore, he had to be inside of her, had to feel her surround him.

He moved back up her body, seeking out her mouth and crushing his lips to hers. She tasted herself on his lips and she craved more. She was insatiable in her need for him, kissing him greedily, her desire ratcheting up to heights never before reached.

She pulled back and stretched out to her nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer and handing it to him. He rolled it on, and then lowered himself between her legs. He looked right into her eyes as he pushed into her, feeling her tight walls squeezing him, and she moaned in pleasure, long and low. Her hands were on his biceps, squeezing, her nails cutting into his skin, but it only served to heighten the pleasure for him. He took a moment to let her adjust to his size and to try to control himself, not lose it before it had even started.

She was overwhelmed, in the best way possible. He was all around her, over her, in her, staring into her eyes, there wasn't a part of her that wasn't consumed by him. He was filling her, far more than anyone ever had before, and it was a glorious feeling, being stretched around him, gripping him, feeling that fullness. She moved her hands to his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss her way up his neck, licking and nipping at his skin.

"Move," she whispered into his ear at the same time she thrust her hips up against his.

He turned his head, his mouth settling on hers, his tongue entering her mouth at the same time he pushed into her, finding a rhythm and pumping hard, jarring her body with each thrust. She was tight and hot and wet and a whole lot of things he couldn't even find words in his mind to describe. Thoughts just flew right out of his head, all he knew was it was the best feeling in the world and he wanted to make it last as long as he could.

He moved inside her, pulling almost all the way out before driving himself back in, each stroke more powerful than the last. Her heels were digging into his ass and he was sure to have marks from where she pulled him to her, her hips rising to meet him. He raised himself up, giving himself more leverage, and grabbed the backs of her knees, one at a time placing her legs on his shoulders. The new position allowed him to hit the very spot that had her crying out in pleasure. He could feel her walls squeezing him and knew she was close to coming; a good thing since he was nearing completion himself.

He reached one hand in and settled his thumb against her clit, and with a few flicks she was coming apart around him. She screamed, her body contracting and tightening, throbbing against him, her back arching off the bed, hands gripping the sheets. A couple more jerks of his hips and he growled through his own release, crashing into her one last time.

She weakly lowered her legs from his shoulders, and he rolled to the side, falling back onto the bed, winded. They both lay there, gasping for breath as they came down from the high. That was the single most fulfilling sexual experience he'd ever had, and he was still reeling from everything. It was all a jumble in his mind, the questions, the thoughts, and the doubts. He didn't know this woman, didn't even know her name. A one time thing, that was all it was supposed to be. They'd both agreed to that and knew it going in, and yet, he couldn't help himself, he already wanted more.

He needed to get out before he said or did something he'd regret, something that would ruin how perfect tonight had been, at least for him.

"Ya good?" His voice rumbled low as he turned to glance at her from the corner of his eye.

He could see she was just laying there, eyes closed, mouth turned up in a satisfied smile, chest rising every so often with her breathy sighs. Tiny drops of sweat were beaded on her body, which was pink and flushed from exertion. She was breathtaking, literally.

"Yeah," she drawled lazily. "I'm good. Really, really good." She looked at him with a full on grin, eyes sparkling, and he chuckled.

"Well, then. I'm gonna get goin'."

He got up from the bed, disposing of the condom in the trash can next to it. He searched out his clothes, hastily pulling them on as he tried to think of something to say. Something that wasn't stupid, or cheese-y, or that would get him slapped. He decided silence was probably best.

She got up also, kicking her heels off, and grabbed a robe off the hook by the closet.

She followed him to the front door, not really knowing what to say.

"That was...nice," she looked down at her feet, before looking back up at him. His eyes were so mesmerizing; a shame she wouldn't see them again.

"Yeah, yeah it was."

With one hand he ruffled his hair back and then turned to step out the door.

"Well, uhhh, see ya."

"See ya."

He walked away and she closed the door, walking back to her bedroom. God, how she wished that were true.


	2. At First Blush

_AN: Again, thanks to Meeshie for helping me brainstorm this and for her help with dialogue, and to Naomi for looking it over for me! Love you ladies so much!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own TWD or the characters, I am just a little obsessed with them. **

* * *

"C'mon Daryl! You gotta give us something!"

Daryl sighed, shaking his head in frustration at the continued jests from the guys on the squad. Two weeks since the wedding, since he had first laid eyes on her across the room at the wedding. Two weeks since the best sex of his life, and he had walked out her front door without even getting her name.

Some of the guys had apparently seen him leave with her and had been on his back ever since, wanting details of the encounter. Details he was loathe to share, not only because it was none of their damn business, but also because in his mind, it would cheapen what was already considered a one-night stand into something else, something worse, and he was determined to hoard those memories all to himself.

He didn't want any of those guys thinking about her the way he was, to have the mental images that he had. Memories that fueled his lust in the moments to himself when he showered in the mornings, or when he would lie awake at night, envisioning her crying out underneath him, writhing and gasping in her pleasure. He would stroke himself, imagining it was her hand wrapped around him, until he came, though it was a hollow experience compared to how it had felt to actually be with her.

No, he didn't want to share any of that with anyone else, which only served to prolong the ribbing from his buddies.

"Alicia! How was Hawaii?" Zach wiggled his eyebrows, turning his attention to the newlywed entering the station, tanned and bright-eyed.

"It was the best! Beaches, sand, volleyball, drinks with teeny little umbrellas...Tara in a tight little bikini," Alicia sighed as she named off her favorite parts of the honeymoon. "Hated to come back to real life, but I figured you guys wouldn't survive without pulling your asses out of the fire."

Daryl chuckled. Alicia had balls of steel and a sense of humor to match. She could go toe-to-toe with the guys any day of the week and never backed down. She was one of the few he felt comfortable at his back in the heat of things, knew she'd get the job done.

"Hey Daryl, maybe Alicia knows who your mystery booty-call was?"

"Zach, I swear if you don't shut it - ," Daryl glared at Zach.

"Mystery booty-call? Ooooh Daryl, did'ya finally get some?" Alicia looked expectantly at Daryl, noting the flush creeping up his neck.

"Hell ya he did," Zack crowed, "saw him taking off in a cab from your reception, some sweet lil' gal, lips glued to his face."

"Daryl Dixon! You scored at my wedding?!" Alicia was flabbergasted.

Daryl's face turned an even brighter shade of red, if that was even possible, and he turned his attention back to his gear, inspecting it more closely than necessary, to ensure it was in proper working condition. Silence was his answer.

"Well, who was she?" Alicia was dying to know who was special enough to get past Daryl's walls. He was notoriously single. Some even speculated that he played for the other team, but she knew better. He was just extremely shy and incredibly picky when it came to women.

"That's the best part!" Zach laughed. "He didn't even get her name!"

Alicia's eyebrows hit the ceiling.

"Is that true?" She peered at Daryl trying to catch his eye, but he continued to ignore her, turning his attention to the truck, grabbing the inspection clipboard and going over the checklist.

Zach snickered, heading into the lunchroom to grab a bite to eat, leaving the two of them next to the engine.

Alicia was silent for a moment, studying Daryl, finally approaching and whispering to him.

"I think it's nice you don't wanna kiss and tell, but I'm glad you finally put yourself out there enough to enjoy yourself."

Daryl mumbled something she couldn't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"I said, couldn't tell even if I wanted to. Zach's right. Didn't get her name." He looked down at the ground, scuffing the toe of his boot against the concrete.

"I can talk to Tara if ya want, see if we can figure out who she was?" Alicia offered, quietly.

He blushed again and shook his head. Alicia could tell he was embarrassed but for a split second she caught something else in his eyes. A flash of hope, desire, maybe even longing, before he schooled his face, masking his emotions again.

"Are you su-"

The alarm sounded on the wall, cutting her off and sending them into a flurry of activity, the conversation forgotten for the day.

* * *

"I've missed you!" Carol exclaimed as she wrapped Tara up in a hug. "How was the honeymoon? Was Hawaii amazing? Have you gotten all your thank you cards sent out? Do you need any help with that?"

Tara laughed as Carol babbled animatedly, squeezing her in between questions.

"I've missed you, too! The honeymoon was fantastic. Hawaii was wonderful. No, I haven't even gotten started on the thank you cards, and I would love some help. Does that answer all your questions?"

Tara couldn't keep the smile off her face as she sat down across from Carol at the cafe they frequented for brunch whenever they had a day off together. Their work schedules were so busy and erratic that getting a day off together didn't happen often but when it did, they made the most of it.

"You look radiant," Carol said with a smile. "Married life must agree with you!"

"It does have its perks," Tara winked with a naughty little smirk.

Carol laughed, enjoying her friend's happiness.

"So, tell me what you've been up to since I've seen you. I caught sight of you a few times at the reception but then you disappeared." Tara noticed a hint of pink color Carol's cheeks but she didn't question her about it.

"It was a beautiful wedding, Tara. It was so lovely." Carol sighed, "I gotta say I'm kinda jealous of the happiness you've found," her bubbly mood deflated a bit.

"Awh, you'll find yours, too! You just gotta get out there, get back in the saddle. You can start by gettin' some. Get back in the game!"

"You know that's not me," Carol replied, her face fifteen shade of red, unable to look Tara in the eyes.

"Carol," Tara lowered her voice, a note of seriousness replacing the teasing, "it's been a long time since Ed. There are other men out there. They aren't all like him. Hell, I know some women who'd love to show you a good time if you decide dicks aren't worth the trouble." She paused, deciding to lighten the conversation again for Carol's benefit. "A vibrator can only do so much."

Carol looked up in surprise and Tara winked at her.

"It's not been that long for me actually…" Carol trailed off as Tara mouth dropped open.

"What?! Spill!"

"Well, ummm, there was a guy...recently."

"Details!" Tara almost squealed, she was so happy for Carol.

"Okay, okay. I met him at your wedding reception." Tara started to interrupt, but Carol held up her hand to stop her and continued on.

"There was instant chemistry. Alcohol probably helped. I've never been so bold in my life. We ended up going back to my place and we...had the sex."

"Oh. My. God. Carol. I'd never have guessed you'd have the lady-balls to do that. Pound it!" Tara held up her fist for Carol to bump.

"I know! I don't know what came over me. God, though. It was gooooood. I've never felt so free. I've never felt like I could say what I wanted during sex, but he seemed to _like_ it! He _wanted_ me to tell him what to do."

Tara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Carol sounded so happy talking about this guy. Her eyes were bright and her skin was flushed.

"Sounds like someone is '_smitten!'_"

Carol ducked her head in embarrassment, realizing how much she had overshared.

"Tell me you're going to see him again. Because you _need _to see him again."

"I...uh...well, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I didn't get his number. Or his name," Carol whispered the last bit.

"Carol! Alright, what did he look like? I'll ask Alicia. I'm sure we can figure it out. There weren't that many people there."

"No. I can't. We both agreed it was just a one time thing. Besides, I'd be too embarrassed. I was a lot more "_expressive_" than usual. I don't think I could even look him in the eye after that."

"Carol." Tara simply looked at her, staring her in the eye, daring her to argue.

"Well, just...not yet. Give me some time to work up the nerve, okay?"

"Alright. Just give me the word. Say when, and I'll talk to Alicia, alright? Just don't take too long, Carol. You deserve happiness."

"I know, I know."

Tara picked up the menu, looking over the selections, even though she knew them by heart by now.

"Now, let's talk about those thank you cards," Tara changed the subject, giving Carol a break.

For now.


	3. If At First You Don't Succeed

**I do not own TWD or the characters, I just play with them. :-) **

_AN: A HUGE thank you to Naomi for helping me with veracity and to Meeshie once again for brainstorming this out with me._

**Warning: the end of this chapter contains femslash. If you don't care to read that, once the shower is mentioned you can skip the rest. **

* * *

"Is Meghan feeling better?" Carol asked as she walked alongside Lilly to the door of _Oswald's_, the quaint little bar she frequented with her co-worker.

_Oswald's_ was Tara's pride and joy. She took over the bar when the previous owner had retired and had turned it into quite the little establishment. Despite the low lighting and well worn wooden tables and barstools, it was a homey little place, somewhere you just felt instantly comfortable when you entered.

"Yeah, her grandma is keeping her tonight. Thank God. Not quite sure what was wrong with her but when she started getting sick before they even cut the cake, I knew I needed to get her home."

Lilly opened the door allowing Carol to enter ahead of her and move to their usual booth in the far corner.

"Well I'm glad she's feeling better. I missed you at the reception, and I've missed seeing you at work."

"I've missed you, too. God, I am so glad Tara arranged this because I am dying for some adult conversation!" Lilly's face was the picture of comical desperation.

Carol laughed at her friend's expression, her eyes crinkling with mirth as she scooted over to make room for Lilly next to her.

"Where's your sister?" Carol looked around searching for Tara's dark hair and trademark plaid shirt she wore when bartending.

"She said she'd be here shortly, she's just picking Alisha up from work. Amy took Tara's shift tonight so we could hang out." Lilly caught the blonde haired girl's attention and waved with a smile.

Amy made her way over to the table, grinning ear to ear.

"Can I get you ladies your usual?" Amy asked, beaming cheerfully.

"I'll have my virgin daiquiri," Carol replied checking her cell phone and seeing a text from Tara that they were on their way.

"I'll have my vodka cranberry and some pretzels if you have any," Lilly smiled back at Amy.

Amy was bartending her way through college and picked up any extra shifts she could to help with expenses. She was always sunny and chipper, possessing a naturally joyful demeanor, which made her a favorite of the clientele at Oswald's.

"Comin' right up, honey," Amy sashayed back to the bar to fix up their drinks as Lilly turned to Carol.

"So, what's new with you?"

Carol was spared answering by the door opening again, and Alisha entering with Tara not far behind her, both of them laughing and gazing at one another with looks so sweet Carol was sure her blood sugar was going up just from looking at them.

* * *

The alcohol and laughs had been plentiful, the four women teasing and talking about anything and everything in between. Alisha told some stories from work, about some of the calls they had been on, hilarious results of sexual situations gone awry.

"So then, there we are, standing inside the bedroom with the woman handcuffed to the bed, covered only in a sheet, her husband panicking about dropping the key down the vent into the air duct, and I swear I thought Daryl was going to lose his shit! His face was the color of the truck!"

Alisha was laughing so hard she was crying, her face beet red as she leaned forward on the table, palms slapping the surface.

"Zach had to go get the tools and free her. Poor woman. I kinda felt bad for her. But Daryl, aghhhh, his face. I'll never forget it, funniest thing I've seen."

Carol laughed at the woman seated across from her and nudged Lilly.

"Are you ready to go? I need to be getting home."

The door opened and in walked Zach, fresh from his shift.

"Ooooo looks like the late-night crowd is showing up early," Tara drawled slowly. "Boy, am I glad I'm off tonight."

"Speaking of getting off," Lilly sluggishly leaned into Carol with a gleam in her eye, "maybe we should stick around, see if we can't get some action?"

"I need to get home and so do you," Carol playfully patted her arm, "and I don't think you're in any condition to be making those kind of decisions."

"Oh, unlike you, Carol?"

Three sets of questioning eyes turned to Tara.

"Lilly, honey, I don't think our Carol is quite as hard up as you are," Tara giggled, picking up her bottle and taking another swig of her drink.

"Oooo!"

"What?!"

"_Tara_!"

Carol shot daggers at Tara, but she was oblivious to her glances, instead cackling as she continued.

"Bet ours was the best wedding you've been to in a while, huh Carol?"

Carol's face was pale, her eyes looking like a deer caught in the headlights. After a beat she straightened her shoulders, determining she would not be ashamed of the most wonderful night of sex she'd ever had.

"Yes it was, matter of fact. Quite 'enjoyable'," she insinuated with a quirk of her eyebrow and a suggestive little smirk.

Alisha turned and studied Carol speculatively, wheels turning in her head.

Carol stood up, determined to cut the conversation short before she was interrogated for details by the trio.

"C'mon Lilly, let's get you home."

Carol placed her tip on the table and with one arm around Lilly's arm to help keep her steady, she waved to the newlyweds.

"Good to see you again, Alisha! Tara," she lowered her voice slightly, "I will be talking to you later." Her eyes bespoke the fact that she meant business.

They made their way out of the bar and Alisha looked over to Tara.

"You ready to head home, babe?"

"Depends. You promise to ravish me when we get there?" Tara attempted to look suggestively at Alisha while batting her eyelashes, and Alisha lost it, cracking up over her partner's antics.

"We'll see how you feel once I get you home."

She grasped her wife's hand, pulling Tara to her feet. Throwing down their own tip, she waved to Zach, who was busy flirting at the bar with Amy, and escorted Tara out the door to make the short walk home.

"It's a good thing we don't live far from the bar," she mused, glancing at Tara, an idea forming in the back of her mind. Her suspicions were definitely aroused by Carol's reaction to Tara's disclosure. It had to be a coincidence...didn't it?

"So, Carol, huh? That's crazy," Alisha fished, cautiously, for more information.

"Yeah! It must've been good, too, because she lit up like a Christmas tree when she told me about it."

"Really," Alisha waited, hoping Tara would elaborate on the subject.

They rounded the corner, coming upon the small two bedroom house they lived in together. Tara had bought it shortly after taking over the bar, once profits became steady under her meticulous management. After they had become engaged, Alisha moved in with her, both of them benefiting from the short commutes to work.

When Tara didn't continue, Alisha decided to press a bit further.

"So, what do ya know about the guy? It was a guy right?"

They made their way up the porch and Alisha pulled her keys out, opening the door for Tara to enter ahead of her.

"Yeah, it was a guy. Can't tell ya much though. Hell, Carol doesn't even know his name."

Shutting the door behind them and locking it, Alisha leaned against the door for a minute. Trying to make some sense of the thoughts rambling through her head, she decided to press her luck even further.

"She say what he looked like?"

"Nope, just that it was _gooooood_ and there was hella chemistry."

Tara looked over her shoulder at Alisha, waiting until she had her attention, she asked, "You coming to bed?"

Alisha finally looked at Tara, a suggestive gleam in her eyes, as she stripped off her clothing right in the living room floor, all thoughts of mystery lovers forgotten.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. Join me?"

"Maybe," Tara drawled. "How can I resist when you ask all sweet-like?" She returned her wife's flirty smile, removing her clothes on the way into the bathroom, a trail of fabric behind her as Alisha chased after her, laughing as they reached the shower together.

Tara reached in to turn on the hot water and Alicia stood back admiring her lover's figure: her smooth, golden skin, the sweet line of the curve of her breast, narrowing to her waist before flaring at hips. Alisha stepped up behind her bringing her arms to wrap around Tara's waist and drawing her back to lean her head on Alicia's shoulder.

Kissing her way up the smooth slope of her neck to the sweet spot behind Tara's ear, Alisha nuzzled her, and whispered in her ear.

"You're so beautiful. I'm forever gonna be indebted to Zach for suggesting going to _Oswald's_ that night."

"Mmmmm, yeah...," Tara murmured, her voice tapering off as she reveled in the sensations flowing throughout her body, goosebumps spreading over her skin.

Pulling back the curtain, Alisha released Tara to step inside the shower, the heat enveloping her, caressing her body with wispy tendrils of steam. Tara joined her, stepping in front of Alisha with her back to the spray of water. She placed her hands on Alisha's face, thumbs stroking her cheeks, and pulled her close, lightly kissing her with the barest touch of her lips to Alisha's.

"I love you, Alisha Hamilton."

"I love you, Tara Chambler-Hamilton."

Alisha pulled Tara into her body, caressing the silky expanse of Tara's back, meeting her lips in a passionate kiss, full of love and longing. Their mouths melted together, her tongue seeking out the sweet, deliciousness in her lover's mouth, tasting, exploring, and relishing in the sensation of the contrasting smooth and rough textures as it slid over Tara's tongue, scraping along her teeth.

With one arm around her wife's waist, Alisha smoothed her other hand over Tara's ribs, slowly dancing her fingertips up until she was cupping her breast, brushing her thumb over the hardened peak, while gently squeezing and kneading her flesh. Tara moaned into Alisha's mouth, knees weakening in pleasure, her body overwhelmed with sensation. Tara's hands gripped Alisha's shoulders, holding onto her tenuous grip on the present, lost in her pleasure, and Alisha hadn't even moved her hand from her breast.

Maintaining her gentle brushes against Tara's breast with her right hand, Alisha pulled back and lowered her mouth to Tara's neck, softly kissing her way down and across her collarbone, tongue flicking out to lick drops of water trailing their way down to her breast. She closed her mouth over Tara's nipple, suckling it, pulling it deep into her mouth, her own lusty whimpers floating up past Tara's ears, arousing her even further.

Tara could feel herself getting wet, having nothing to do with the water cascading down her back from the shower, and she needed more, more touch, more pressure, just more.

"Baby, please, I need you!" Tara begged breathlessly, her hand reaching to grasp Alisha's and slide it down to her center where she desperately craved her touch.

Alisha turned Tara's back to the wall, kneeling down in front of her, and gently spreading Tara's legs apart so she could scoot in closer to her. She ran her hands up Tara's legs, loving the soft skin blanketing the hard muscle in her thighs. She slipped one arm underneath to grip Tara's ass, pulling her core to her mouth, burying her face in her wet heat.

Tara cried out in ecstasy as Alisha ran her tongue through her folds, savoring her unique taste, one she could not get enough of, as she lapped up her juices. She made love to her with her mouth, thrusting in her entrance, massaging Tara's walls with her tongue. As water streamed down her wife's body, flooding over Alisha's face, she pulled back slightly, slowly licking her way up to Tara's clit. She laved her tongue over the swollen nub, gripping Tara's thigh with one hand, bringing the other up to caress her skin, before sliding her fingers through Tara's hot, slick cleft, penetrating her entrance with two fingers. Alisha pumped her fingers in and out in time with her tongue flicking over Tara's most sensitive spot. She curled her fingers, rubbing against the rough texture of the spot that would bring her partner to climax, and felt the slippery softness of Tara's inner walls squeezing her digits tighter and tighter until Alisha felt the telltale spasms that signalled, along with Tara's uninhibited exclamations, that her wife had found her release.

Alisha held on to Tara's legs, bracing her as she regained some semblance of control of her limbs. She rose up in front of Tara, licking her fingers of the juices coating them before her lips met Tara's and they sighed into a soft embrace, this time lazily caressing one another, enjoying the closeness and the feel of their skin against one another.

"So, are we going to get any actual showering accomplished," Tara breathed with a sated smile on her face, turning her wife to wash her back, fully intent on returning the favor before the night was over.


	4. The First Miss

**Disclaim-all the things. I don't own TWD.**

**AN: Sorry it's taken so long to update but RL has been kicking me in the teeth. Hope this makes up for it! **

* * *

"Son of a dick!"

"What's wrong, honey?" Alisha turned over next to Tara in the bed and could just make out the scowl on her face as she glared at the nightstand.

"I must've left my phone down at the bar. I can't set my alarm."

"Just use mine."

"Nah, you gotta leave before me, I'll sleep through if I don't have mine on. Tell me again why I thought I didn't need an alarm clock," Tara moaned as she flounced back on her pillow, then groaned as the movement made her head swim. "I make such good choices."

"Yes, you do. You chose me didn't you?" Alisha reached over and pecked Tara on the nose. "I'll run down to the bar real quick. I'm sure Amy has it put back somewhere."

Alisha hopped out of bed, pulled on some sweats and a tee, along with her sneakers, and tossed an '_I love you' _over her shoulder as she made her way out the front door and down the street to the bar.

* * *

Daryl sat at the bar, nursing his beer, occasionally munching on some peanuts and just generally hanging back to observe the crowd. He was in a mood tonight. He couldn't quite put his finger on what had him so twisted up inside, but he was just not in the frame of mind to deal with inane bullshit, small talk, or the jokes and jabs from the guys at the station.

He'd have thought, given enough time, they'd lay off him about the wedding but no, it seemed giving him a hard way to go was their new favorite past-time. He couldn't see how they hadn't exhausted their endless supply of jokes at his expense, but they kept 'em coming. It was wearing thin.

He had about reached that point where he just wanted to forget about her. It wasn't worth the hassle, but no matter how hard he tried to put her out of his head, she kept invading his thoughts, and at the worst times, too.

The door opened and he looked up to see Alisha walk in and head straight over to the bar. She disappeared behind the counter for a moment and then popped up with what looked like a phone in her hand. She startled when she turned and noticed him sitting there.

"D! What's up?"

Daryl grunted in return before lifting his beer to his mouth for another drink, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

"Whoa. That good huh?"

A burst of laughter sounded behind him and he looked over to see Zach and Amy flirting up a storm. Zach was apparently hilarious if Amy's laughter was any indication. His face darkened even more, as if that was possible, and he drained his beer. Some people could do that whole flirty song and dance routine like it was second nature to them. How come he couldn't seem get the hang of it? He wished he'd have been practiced enough at that sort of thing to get the woman's name or number at least. It was too late now. Too much time had passed.

Alisha eyes followed Daryl's glance and saw the minute changes in his face.

"Daryl. Man. What's wrong?" Her face was serious, having lost all notes of playfulness, and he could see the concern written in her eyes.

"'S nothin. Jus'...," he glanced once more over at the two giggling down the bar, "wish it was as easy as some people make it look is all."

"You still thinkin' about your lady friend from the wedding?"

"It that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you like I do. Perks of being your partner," Alisha quipped, tossing a peanut in the air and catching it in her mouth.

"Say, this woman you took off with? She have silver hair? Pixie cut? Petite?" Alisha motioned with her hand, gesturing to him as she rattled off questions.

"Yeah," Daryl quirked an eyebrow at her, eyes questioning her before he voiced it, "how'd you know?"

"Well, hypothetically speaking, it's possible I _may_ know a name. Would you be interested in that?"

Daryl's stomach flipped and his palms started sweating. Did he want a name? What good would a name do? But if Alisha knew the name, she'd have to know how to contact the person. What would he even say? '_Hey, I'm the stranger you took home and fucked senseless. Wanna grab some coffee sometime?'_ Would she even want him to contact her? She hadn't gave him her name. Maybe that was on purpose. Maybe she only wanted a nameless fuck.

His brain was spitting out questions faster than he could think and all he knew was he needed to get out of this bar and get some fresh air. He needed to breathe. He needed sleep. _He needed to forget about this blue-eyed, pixie-haired temptress who was making him crazy. _

"Naw. I need to get goin'. Thanks though. See ya." He hopped off his stool, stuffed his tip in the jar, turned and was headed out the door before she could stop him.

* * *

"Thanks so much for taking me to the store!"

Amy was sitting in the passenger seat, texting away on her phone, the back-seat of Carol's car full of Amy's groceries.

"No problem, sweetie. I liked having the company. Do you know how long your car's gonna be out of commission?"

"Oh, hopefully not long. Daryl's comin' over to look at it for me. He's great with cars and stuff."

Amy looked up just in time to direct Carol in the turn up the driveway to her sister's house. They lived outside the small town, in the country, and the driveway was a long dirt path that led away from the road and curved behind a grove of trees.

"It's beautiful out here," Carol gushed with a longing sigh. The sun streamed through the leaves dappling the lawn in gorgeous light and warmth. The smell of fresh cut grass filtered through the windows, a light breeze sweeping through the trees, and Carol felt like this was as close to heaven as one could be, out in the fresh air of the countryside.

"Thanks. We like it out here. It's nice and peaceful."

Carol parked the car and the two of them got out and carried the groceries into the house. Carol helped Amy put them all away and then made her way to leave.

"You sure you don't want to stick around? Have you ever met Daryl?"

Carol chuckled at Amy's not so subtle attempt to have her meet someone. It wasn't the first time the girl had tried to hook her up with someone, and the results were usually disastrous.

"No, I haven't had the pleasure, and I'm sure he's wonderful, but I really need to be going. I have a lot of stuff to get done around the house before work tomorrow."

"Alright, well you're the one missing out, believe me."

Carol laughed and gave Amy a hug before walking out and getting into her car. She waved goodbye to the blonde and pulled the car out, starting down the driveway.

As she approached the main road, a motorcycle roared up along side of her, kicking up gravel and dirt as it made the turn into the driveway. She glanced out window and saw the leather clad driver speed past, helmet obscuring his face, but there was something about those shoulders.

She shivered as a wave of lust rolled through her bringing along a tide of memories of that night. Broad shoulders, taut muscles, warm skin, sweat and heat and...she shook her head, snapping out of her reverie.

She needed to get laid more often. Then she wouldn't be so caught up in memories of a some guy she'd taken home from a wedding. Maybe that was the problem. She wasn't used to doing stuff like that. Clearly, she wasn't cut out for it.

Maybe she did need Tara to hook her up with someone, or maybe even Amy. She needed to get out more. She _needed _to stop thinking about broad shoulders and blue eyes so deep she could drown in them.

It was already too late.


	5. I Fell For You First

_**AN: The joke below between Alisha and Daryl comes from the movie "Love Stinks." It is not mine, but it was soooo perfect for these two, I couldn't resist. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_**Now**_

Pain lanced through through his right arm, so sharp he couldn't help but let out a shout that stole the oxygen right from his lungs. His face mask had slipped, and he felt himself getting dizzy as he struggled to breathe, lungs heaving as smoke filtered in from the gap left between his skin and the mask. An oppressive wall of heat clashed against the exposed skin. He struggled to lift his left hand over and managed to hit the emergency button on his PASS system before the blackness started clouding his vision. The last thing he heard was Alisha yelling his name.

* * *

_**4 Hours Earlier**_

Carol rolled onto her side, smacking the snooze button on her alarm, and lay quietly for a few moments, trying to clear her mind of the cobwebs that had taken up residence as she slept, what little sleep she had managed to get. Her night had been fitful, dreams filled with images of the man she had been unable to forget. She couldn't understand why she couldn't forget him, couldn't let go of that night.

Her body wouldn't let her forget, even if her mind could have managed the task. She could still feel his fingers touching her, caressing her skin. She could still taste him on her lips. Could still see his eyes gazing into hers in awe as their climaxes took hold of them.

She groaned, dragging herself out of bed. Even her own attempts at pleasuring herself, which had been more than sufficient _before_, did nothing to ease the ache and emptiness inside of her that he had fulfilled. It was like she had awoken a slumbering beast from hibernation, and it was ravenous.

Carol approached her closet, digging through her clothes, trying to get a start on her day and distract herself, when her fingers brushed the wispy material. She jerked her hand back as if it had been burned, staring at the dress that had ended up on the floor of her bedroom the night of the wedding.

That was it. She couldn't take anymore. She was calling Tara on her lunch break to see if she could help her out. She wanted his name.

* * *

"So, you're tellin' me you _might_ have a name?"

Daryl looked over at Alisha, who turned to him in surprise when his question broke the lingering silence in the cab of the truck.

"Yeah. it's possible. I mean, I don't know too many women who went home from my wedding with a guy whose name she doesn't know-just the one. You finally gonna sack up?"

Daryl chuckled at the woman next to him. She didn't pull any punches.

"Yeah, I s'ppose so. Figure it can't hurt," he shrugged, trying to act like he didn't care one way or another, but Alisha could see right through him.

"I mean you already know the sex was great, right," she nudged him in the ribs, giving him a knowing look.

"Stop," he drawled, then after a moment's hesitation deadpanned, "Yeah, it was fuckin' outstandin'." Daryl glanced at her from the side of his eye, a smirk playing at his lips.

"As in outstanding fucking?" Alisha queried and Daryl lost it, laughing so hard he caught the attention of everyone in the truck, who puzzled over what in the world had caused a break in his usual surly demeanor.

"Heads up, ya'll. This is it," Zach tossed back to them as the truck stopped outside the ranch-style house with smoke pouring from the windows, and bright orange flames licking up the bricks on the side of the house.

They grabbed their gear and went to work.

* * *

"Tara, it's Carol. You awake yet?"

Tara rolled over in bed, holding her phone to her ear, eyes still closed, she mumbled into the speaker.

"Hullo? Yeah, mmm...I'm 'wake. What's up?"

"I've been thinking about it and...I'd like it if you and Alisha could find out who the guy was that I was with after the wedding. I can't stop thinkin' about him."

Tara bolted upright in the bed and clutched the phone tighter in her grasp, a muffled squeak making its way past her lips.

"You serious right now?"

"Yeah. I can't talk long, I gotta get back to work, but I wanted to get you before you headed into work yourself. Can you talk to Alisha for me?"

"Definitely. Dude, I can't wait. She's gonna be so pumped! We've been trying to get you hooked up with someone for so long." Tara's voice shifted to a more serious tone before she continued, "Seriously, Carol, I'm so proud of you. You've come so far."

Tara could almost hear the blush coming through the phone as Carol bashfully demurred.

"If you say so. I gotta get off here, I'll talk to you later? Maybe swing by the bar?"

"Deal. Later." Tara laughed gleefully as she tossed her phone down on the bed. She couldn't wait to talk to her wife.

* * *

The smoke was thick, obscuring his vision, the gray blackness like a thick soup in which he was swimming. His radio crackled, static blared, then Alisha's voice came through.

"D, we got two in the back of the house! Looks like the fire is down below."

"Copy. Making my way through the first room, ground level."

He kept his flashlight trained ahead of him, the beacon barely cutting through the thick, inky plumes as he searched for any victims in need of rescue.

The radio cackled again. This time it was Zach's voice garbled through headset.

"Fifteen minutes left on the oxygen tanks you two."

"Copy."

Daryl heard Alisha reply before he uttered his own acknowledgement, continuing into the next room.

He caught a glimpse of the reflective stripe on her turnout coat in the beam of his flashlight and made his way over to her to help with the two who were overcome by the smoke. They led them out of the house, before turning and heading back in to sweep the rest of the house.

Daryl took point this time, leading the way through the hallway of the house, clearing each room as they went. They cleared the last room when the radio came to life again.

"You got less than five minutes of O2 left. Get outta there."

"D, we're gonna have to use a window. Don't have enough left to make it back through, it's too much smoke!"

Daryl signaled to Alisha and lifted the ax he had with him to bust the window out. Just as Alisha hefted herself over the frame he felt the floor shift.

"Oh shit!"

He scrambled to grab hold of something, losing the ax as the floor gave way beneath him. In the midst of splintered wood and pillars of smoke, Daryl slipped into the blackness below.


	6. First Response

Beep….beep….beep

"...BP is 138/90…"

beep….beep….beep

"...en route to….emergency department….smoke…"

Words filtered in and out of his consciousness. Sirens blared and machines beeped and then the sounds were muffled again. His head was pounding, his chest ached, and his arm...he knew his arm was broken. The pain was piercing, dragging him back into reality, but his mind dug its claws in, desperate to remain blissfully unconscious.

Each bump in the road, each turn, every jostle, he felt keenly throughout his body, compounding the excruciating pain he already felt. As he struggled to open his eyes, lids fluttering, he felt someone take hold of his fingers in a gentle grasp, and he tried to turn to see who it was when he felt the cervical collar restrict his movement. _Shit._

"It's me, Daryl. It's Alisha...can you hear me?"

He could hear her, could hear the tremor in her voice, could feel her fingers trembling around his, and he fought to answer her but couldn't seem to make his mind and mouth connect. He felt the mask on his face and knew he was getting oxygen, so she couldn't have heard him if he had been able to speak. He settled for trying to squeeze her fingers to let her know he heard her.

"Oh, thank goodness, D! You had me so scared you sonofabitch! You probably took 20 years off my life! Don't you ever do that again. Asshole!"

He could hear her distress and the tears she was trying to mask with her words but she was failing.

"We're almost to the hospital, just hang on, okay?"

Like he could do anything else he thought to himself.

Once they arrived at the hospital, he was taken immediately to the emergency department and triaged. Alisha couldn't come back with him and he could see she was upset by it. He heard the EMTs giving an account of his known injuries and vitals in the field. One of the interns took off his oxygen mask so she could check his airways. She unfastened his clothing in order to listen to his lungs for what seemed like forever, then she began to to palpate his stomach and look for signs of internal bleeding, asking him questions as she did.

"Can you tell me what your name is, sir?"

"Daryl," he growled roughly.

"Can you tell me the date?"

"September 29th, 2014," he grimaced as she accidentally jostled his arm and barked out, "Watch it, lady. That arm's broken."

"I'm sorry. Lastly, can you tell me where you are?"

"In the fuckin' hospital, where's it look like I am?" he retorted, frustrated by whole chain of events and in a worse mood brought on by the pain in his arm.

"Can I get some fuckin' pain medicine? This arms hurts like a sonofabitch!"

"I just need to get your vitals and we need to get some bloodwork done, then we can evaluate how much pain medicine we can give you."

She proceeded to take his vitals and called out to the man behind her.

"BP 135/88. Heart rate 105, respirations are at 25," as she slipped a pulse oximeter on his finger.

"Page radiology and let them know we need films of his right arm," and she turned back to Daryl before continuing her assessment. "Daryl, your O2 sats are a bit low but not too concerning. We'll need to keep an eye on them and see what your blood work says, okay?"

"Fine," Daryl huffed, "ain't like I got a choice anyhow."

She put his IV in, started his fluids, and stepped back to let the man from the lab take his blood.

"We're gonna need ABG and CBC done on that blood sample, okay Theodore?"

"Got it," the man replied as he gathered the vials and turned to deliver it to the lab.

"Daryl, I'll be back as soon as we get the results and we'll see what we can get you for pain, okay?"

"Fine," he replied tersely, gritting his teeth at the throbbing and stabbing in his injured arm.

It wasn't the the first time he suffered an injury like this, but it had been a long while since and he was no longer accustomed to living with chronic or frequent pain like he used to, as a child.

There was no way he was starting back down into that rabbit hole. He stared at the ceiling, given that he couldn't really move to look anywhere else. When he got tired of that, he closed his eyes, and tried to will himself to relax.

He tried calming thoughts. He thought of the woods, the green damp forest, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the twittering sounds of animals rustling about in their habitat.

He thought of his trip to the ocean last summer, how blue the water had been, the warm sand beneath his feet, and the tangy, salty smell of the sea air as it flooded his nostrils.

His mind floated along, wandering from the blue of the sea to the blue of her eyes as she quirked her delicate lips at him in a teasing smile. How her eyes sparkled with life and laughter, and burned with passion.

He felt a peace blanket him, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth and safety, where nothing could touch him or harm him. Where there was no pain, only pleasure, happiness, and fulfillment.

He was unsure how long he drifted in his mind, but was startled when he felt someone bump his bed.

"Mr. Dixon," it was the voice of that lady, he wasn't sure of her name, "we got your blood tests back and the numbers look pretty hopeful. I'm going to check your vitals again and then we can see about getting you some medicine, okay? Radiology should be here by then to get some films of that arm."

She ran through the process of getting his stats, humming positively at the numbers, then listened to his lungs again and began to do a more thorough exam.

"I'm going to ask you some more questions, and do a bit of a neuro check and see if we can get you off of spinal precautions."

She ran through her checklist, poking and prodding at him, irritating him more and more, until finally she finished and removed the cervical collar and spinal board.

"You can sit up now, that will help with the breathing, and I'll go get your meds."

With that she was gone again, and Daryl adjusted himself, carefully sitting up, trying not to bang his arm around too badly.

She returned with some pills for him to swallow.

"I've got some Motrin here for you to help with the pain. I'm afraid we can't give you anything stronger until your numbers improve a bit more."

She turned to leave, trying to ignore his grumbling, but he caught her with a question.

"Hey, my partner came in with me. She's probably real worried. Can someone let her know I'm okay? Name's Alisha. Dark hair, skinny thing, still wearing her turnouts prob'ly."

"What would you like me to tell her?"

* * *

Alisha sat in the emergency department waiting room, anxiously anticipating any news about Daryl. She had bugged the lady at the desk so many times, she was sure she wanted to kick her out. She couldn't sit still, getting up and pacing for a bit before trying to sit, only to be back up pacing again in a few minutes. She tried to call Tara and let her know where she was but ended up getting her voicemail.

She felt as if she were going to be sick from the worry and anxiety writhing in her stomach and heavy like lead in her chest. Daryl had never been injured like this, as long as they'd been partners. She had come to think of him as invincible, and this was a harsh reminder of the danger they placed themselves in every day on the job.

She was just turning go back to the desk and ask again when she heard someone call her name.

"Alisha Hamilton? Is there an Alisha Hamilton here?"

"Here!" She rushed over to the lady standing at the doors leading to the trauma bay, "I'm Alisha Hamilton! How's Daryl?"

"Daryl is going to be okay as far as we can tell. He said to tell you, and I quote, 'Tell her I'm like a cat with nine lives. She ain't gettin' rid of me that easy.'"

Alisha sighed in relief and then asked, "Can I see him?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be okay. Follow me."

The two made their way back to the room Daryl was in, and Alisha discreetly wiped away a few tears when she saw him.

"Maybe next time you should try landing on your feet instead of your arm, jerk."

Daryl just chuckled at her, and turned as he heard someone approach the door.

Backing into the room was the woman from radiology, bringing the portable x-ray machine in with her.

"Alright, Mr. Dixon? I'm here to do some films of your arm."

His ears perked at her voice, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he jerked to look closely at her silver, pixie-cut hair.

She turned to look at him and gasped as her blue eyes clashed into his and recognition fluttered over her face.

Alisha glanced up at the noise, her face lighting up in a grin she looked at the two of them, and she exclaimed loudly, "Fuckin' finally!"


	7. First Name Basis

**_Disclaimer: I disclaim all the stuff and thangs. _**

**_AN: Sorry it has been so long since I have updated. Hope this is worth it. Thanks for sticking with me! 333_**

* * *

"I believe you two know each other. At least in the Biblical sense…," Alisha trailed off when she realized neither Daryl nor Carol were paying the least bit of attention to her.

Their eyes were focused on one another, neither one moving or looking away. The only sounds to be heard were the beeping of the various machines, and the scuffling and squeaking of the hospital workers' shoes on the floor just beyond the curtain.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go then, okay, yeah, good talk...," and with that Alisha ducked out of the makeshift room, though she doubted very much that either one of them noticed.

Carol thought for sure her heart was going to stop beating or beat right out of her chest, she wasn't certain which, but just knew she was having some kind of arrhythmia.

She managed to gather her wits and approach the fireman whose sooty, streaked face was twisted in a look between confusion and surprise. Her eyes drank him in, studying every feature in the light of day that she had only known before in the still of night. His eyes shone out from the griminess on his face and she marveled at the cool, deep blue looking back at her.

"So, Daryl is it?"

She tried to assume whatever shreds were left of her professionalism and training so she could actually perform her job, though that would take every ounce of fortitude on her part. How she wished she had some alcohol in her system now. Things were so much easier the night of the wedding; she wasn't over thinking every single word or move.

"Yeah, s' Daryl," he rasped out, throat raw and dry.

"Well, Daryl, what happened to bring you in here?"

"My stupid ass fell through the floor into a basement. Tried to brace myself and 'm pretty sure I broke my arm."

"You're lucky that's all that hurts, though I'm sure you'll feel it a lot more over the next few days. I'm gonna need to take some films, okay? I'll try to be as gentle as possible," she added softly.

"Do whatcha gotta do. Not much I can do 'bout it is there?"

She moved to prep the machine and Daryl cursed himself. Of course this was his luck. Of course he'd be laid out on his ass the first time he saw her again, like a fuckin' baby. His arm hurt, he was filthy, pretty much helpless at the moment, and pretty much pissed over fuckin' everything.

"_Dammit_!"

"What was that?" Carol looked up her machine to glance at him. "Did you say something?"

_Fuck_! He must've said that out loud.

"Naw, wasn't nothin'." He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever was out there that he could start this whole damn day over again.

"Alright, Daryl, I need to position your arm for the first film. It's going to hurt, but I'll be as careful as I can, okay?"

"Fine," he replied tersely.

She grasped his arm and the pain took his breath away. Well, the pain and something else. They had cut his jacket and shirt off him when they put his IV in and as her soft, warm hands closed over his skin, he felt that touch reverberate all over his body. It rippled out from his arm to the rest of him, like waves in a lake after skipping a stone in the water.

The warring sensations, pain and pleasure, consumed his thoughts, and he almost didn't hear her next words, spoken as soft as a gentle spring rain.

"I was going to call you."

His face must've shown his bewilderment because she continued.

"I mean, I was going to try to get Tara to find out who you were so I could call you," she forced the words out in a rush, afraid if she didn't, she wouldn't ever have the courage to do so.

Her cheeks pinkened in a sweet blush and he was struck wordless as he just stared at her beautiful face. Backlit by the hospital lights, she looked like a fuckin' angel.

"I mean, if that's something that you'd want? Or not, I mean, I don't want to...if you don't want...we can just...," she trailed off as she looked down nervously, paying far more attention to his arm, before moving the machine to take the scan. "Just hold still for a second."

The machine whirred and his mind did the same, trying to make heads or tails out of everything happening. He was in pain. His arm was most likely broken. His mystery woman was right here in front of him. Wasn't she? Or was this some sick hallucination his mind conjured up? Was he dreaming? Was he hurt worse than he knew and this was some kind of coma? She wanted to call him. She wanted to know who he was. It had to be a dream. What kind of medicine had they given him?

"Is this real?" He asked the question before his mind even knew what his mouth was going to say.

Carol moved back to his side to change the slide and angle his arm for the next scan, and as gentle as she was trying to be, the pain still lanced through his arm like a hot knife and he let out a growl.

"_Sonofabitch!"_

Yeah, it was definitely real.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, I'm doing my best to make this easy on you."

_'Mr. Dixon?' What the f-_

"You ain't gotta call me 'Mr. Dixon.' Daryl's jus' fine. I mean, we've seen each other naked, so I think we're past the formalities, dontcha think?"

Carol eyes shot over to his and her face blazed red. He was staring right back at her, and the heat in their gazes as they devoured one another flamed hotter than the hottest fire he'd ever fought.

She tore herself away first, putting away the materials and packing up the machine.

"As soon as the radiologist has a chance to look at the films he will be in contact with your doctor and they will inform you of the results," Carol spoke in her most business like tone, trying to hold herself together. Her nerves were a mess, her heart rate had to be sky high, and her respirations were off, she knew. She might need to be admitted herself before this was over.

She turned to leave and his husky voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You don't want an answer to your question before you leave?"

Her breath caught in her throat and slowly she moved to where she could look at him. He was still in pain, she could tell, but there was the slightest of smirks playing on his lips, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well?" She waited for his reply and he took his sweet time giving it.

"Hell yeah," he drawled and a slight grin slowly took over his features.

"Okay then," she smiled as she looked down and away and once more turned to leave.

"Hey, ain't cha gonna tell me your name?" He called after her.

He caught the silvery laugh and heard the smile in her voice as she walked away, tossing her answer over her shoulder.

"It's Carol."


	8. First Date

**AN: Standard disclaimers apply. Thanks for reading! xoxoxo  
**

* * *

Daryl squinted into the searing sunlight as he pushed open the door exiting the orthopedic doctor's office. It was awkward trying to use his non-dominant arm for everything and he was still getting used to it. He tried to adjust the sling around neck to a more comfortable position as he kept an eye out for Alisha to give him a ride to the pharmacy and back home. He already knew this broken arm shit was gonna get old real fast.

Keeping his arm bent just shy of a right angle, the cast extended from his hand to above his elbow. He knew from experience that it was gonna get itchy and annoying before it was over with, not to mention he'd be bored as hell without being able to work. There were no "light duty" jobs for him to do while in a cast, so he was looking at at least 8 weeks off work. He was _not _happy.

He heard the squeal of tires as Alisha hot-rodded into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt in front of him, gravel spitting from under the car.

"Sure hope you ain't plannin' on drivin' like that the whole time," Daryl grumbled as he motioned to his arm. "Ya got precious cargo here."

"Just get your whiny ass in the car," Alisha rolled her eyes as Daryl reached across himself to shut the door.

"This is gonna be a pain in the ass," Daryl sighed resignedly as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest.

"So, where are you taking her?" Alisha asked, matter-of-factly.

"What are you talkin' about?" Daryl's eyes flew open and he jerked to look over at her, confusion written on his face.

"Carol. Where are you taking her? You have asked her out, right?" Alisha nodded to him as if there could only be one answer, but his reply wasn't the one she expected, if her huff of annoyance was any clue.

"Nah, haven't exactly had the chance now have I? Been a little caught up with some stuff...things." Daryl motioned to his arm again before speaking up, quieter this time, "I don't really know where to take her to be honest. Ain't like I know a whole lot about what she likes."

Alisha felt bad for him. Dude had had a rough go of it lately, so she decided to have a little compassion.

"You know, Tara and I have been wanting to try this new bar downtown, The Rainbow Room, and I think it'd be nice to maybe go as a group? It's always more fun with more people. What do you say?"

"Nah, I don't need you to go along. I can do it just fine on my own." Daryl was stubborn, and had to maintain some sense of dignity, though he admitted to himself, it did sound like it might be a good idea.

"C'mon Daryl. Tara, me, you, and Carol? That way there won't be a lot of pressure on you, and you can relax. It'll be an informal setting, alcohol, dancing-"

Daryl groaned at the last part and spit out, "If it'll get ya to stop talkin' then it sounds good." He was trying his best to sound like he didn't care, but he knew she could hear the relief in his tone.

He leaned his head back once more, closing his eyes again, and added, "Quit your damn smirking, too."

Alisha just chuckled. This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

"I can _not _wear this!"

Carol's look of exasperation and incredulity was too hilarious not to chuckle a little bit, but Tara tried to remain composed.

"And why exactly can you _not _wear it?"

"B-be-because..._look_ at it!"

Carol's sputtering caused Tara to lose her last bit of restraint and she busted out laughing.

"Carol. That's _exactly_ why you have to wear it."

Carol couldn't tear her eyes away from the deep crimson shirt. The cowl neckline plunged in a deep vee while the sleeveless top was cinched between her shoulderblades in the back, showing off her delicate creamy shoulders. The ruching at the sides emphasized her tiny waist and the curve of her hips. Tara had pretty much stuffed her into the skinniest jeans she could find and finished the outfit off with a pair of black, knee high didn't recognize herself at all in the mirror.

"C'mon Carol. You look _hot_! Daryl will lose his shit when he sees you." At that Carol rolled her eyes, but Tara pressed on. "Seriously. That top looks so much better on you than me."

"I really don't know about this," Carol bit her lower lip nervously, but Tara was winning her over. She had to admit, she did feel pretty and more confident in these clothes.

"Just _trust_ me!" Tara huffed and flopped on the bed like a petulant child, then looked up at Carol with cute puppy eyes and Carol burst out laughing.

"Okay! I'll wear it!"

Tara cheered then jumped up from the bed again, bouncing excitedly around the room as she helped Carol with her earrings, a touch of makeup, and styling her hair _just_ right. Carol looked herself over in the mirror and couldn't help but to stand a little taller, tossing her shoulders back. She felt a boldness in wearing these clothes that she didn't usually recognize in herself. It was empowering.

"This is gonna be so great!" Tara exclaimed as she clapped her hands in excitement. Tara moved distractedly through the room and the house as she started getting herself ready, rambling on about the bar they were going to, the friends of her and Alisha that ran the place, how it had just opened and they had been dying to go there.

Stumbling through the hall trying to get her high heel on, Tara came to stop in front of Carol, her nervous energy starting to ebb, and smiled the brightest, most sincere of Tara-like smiles.

"I'm so happy for you, Carol!" Tara wrapped Carol in the warm embrace of her arms and squeezed gently, before letting go and discreetly wiping her eyes as she turned her back. She cleared her throat a little, choking down her emotion, and grabbed her license and credit card, handing Carol hers as well.

"Are you sure you're okay with me hitching a ride?"

Carol's hand came to rest gently on Tara's arm and looked pointedly at Tara's shoes.

"We don't need any _more_ broken bones around here."

* * *

_Daaaaaaaamn!_

Daryl couldn't help it. He knew he looked like he'd been struck dumb, and in all honesty, he probably was. He could _not_ take his eyes off the vision in front of him. Carol stood at the entrance to the bar, laughing at something Tara was saying to her. Her face was the picture of happiness, her cherry lips forming a heart-stopping smile, and her glittering blue eyes crinkling in joy. Her pale skin gleamed in the light reflecting from the sign on the front of the building.

He drank her in with his eyes, from the silvery wisps of her angelic hair to the smooth curves of her figure highlighted in the skin hugging shirt and jeans, down to the sexy black boots she wore, which he knew hid the smoothest, sexiest legs he'd ever had wrapped around him.

_I am so fucked. _

He didn't even realize he'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk until Alisha tapped him on the shoulder.

"You planning on standing here the whole evening?"

He shook his head, coming out of his stupor, and started to answer back when Carol turned and looked in his direction, aiming that gorgeous smile right at him. His mouth suddenly went dry and his throat got all parched, and all he could do was manage a nod towards Carol, which had Alisha snorting in laughter.

"Alright then, stay here if you want. We'll see ya in a few hours."

Daryl shot a glare towards her, which just made her laugh harder, and joined her making his way towards the door.

* * *

The made their way inside and it took a few minutes for Daryl's eyes to adjust in the darkness. The loud beat of the music reverberated against the walls and he swore he even felt it thrumming through his body. They found themselves a small circular table towards the back; there weren't any chairs, he guessed it was to encourage dancing.

He could see Tara and Alisha's heads together, probably trying to make themselves heard over the music. He turned to Carol and bent towards her, his lips just near her ear, so close he knew she could feel his breath on her skin.

"I'm gonna go up to the bar. Get us some drinks. Whatcha want?"

Carol contemplated a second before she turned her head and stood up on her toes, pressing

one hand against his bicep to steady herself. She closed the distance between them until her mouth just ghosted over his earlobe.

"I'll have the Sex on a Beach."

Daryl almost choked and a bolt of lust ran through him. She was trying to kill him. He was certain. When she pulled back she gave him a teasing grin, and he knew he was gonna have to step up his game.


	9. First Dance

**Disclaimer: all things disclaimed. **

**AN: part of this chapter inspired by one of those "imagine your OTP" posts in tumblr. The song is "Uptown Funk," which again, I disclaim all things. **

* * *

Daryl approached the bar, his insides all nervous and twisted, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck and across his brow. He was way out of his element and couldn't understand how he had let Alisha talk him into this.

"What can I get for you?"

Daryl looked up at the bartender, a young guy with wavy brown hair, and cleared his throat.

"I'll have a beer, and a...ummSexOnTheBeach," Daryl rushed out, the tips of his ears flushing red, as he tried to avoid meeting the man's eye. He was surprised when, instead of a deriding laugh or chuckle, the guy merely nodded and went about mixing the drink.

"You gonna be able to get both of the drinks?" The guy nodded to Daryl's cast.

"Shit! Didn't even think about that," Daryl lamented, even more embarrassed. How the hell was he supposed to even get the drinks over to the table with one arm? This was a bad idea. A stupid, bad, no good, dammit-all-to-hell, piss poor idea.

He tried to gather his wits about him and think up some kind of solution when the bartender piped up.

"I can get my partner over there to bring the drinks to you. Where is your table?"

"Jus' over there in the corner. Back of the room." Daryl pointed with his good hand towards the table and the girls.

The guy peered in the direction Daryl had pointed out and then looked back to Daryl, quizzically.

"You know Alisha and Tara?"

Daryl shot the guy a wary glance, contemplating how he should answer.

"I'm Aaron. This is my bar. Well, mine and my partner's, Eric. That's him over there," he motioned to the opposite end of the bar and a lanky red head who was running the till.

"Alisha and Tara are friends of ours. We've been trying to get them to come check it out ever since we opened."

Daryl nodded, remembering that Alisha had said as much to him the other day.

"I'm Daryl. Alisha's my partner on the squad."

Aaron raised his brow at that, the pieces finally falling into place.

"Oh, _you're_ Daryl. Alisha's talked a lot about you. All good, don't worry," he said at a glare from Daryl. "Just, from what she's told me, you don't strike me as the club scene kinda guy?"

"I really ain't, man. I don't know what the hell to do with myself here. I'm drownin'. If it was a fire that'd be one thing, but this...," Daryl bit his lower lip, unsure what to do or say now to get him out of the awkward situation.

"Must be a pretty special person to get you in here then."

Daryl nodded his assent, still puzzling over how to make it back to the table without looking like an idiot.

"Let me get Eric over here to cover me and I'll join you for a minute. I need to say hi to the ladies anyway."

Daryl paid for the drinks and Aaron joined him, making their way back to the corner where the women awaited. As Daryl approached Carol, he noticed a petite dark haired woman making conversation with her. His ears perked up as he heard the woman ask for Carol's number. Carol glanced nervously at Daryl, and he just grinned at her, waiting to see how she would handle the situation.

"I'm very flattered, Francine, but I, uh, I'm here with someone already. A date. I have a date. That's actually him right there. Daryl. That's Daryl. He's my date," Carol babbled as she floundered around with her hand, trying to grasp his bicep out of her peripheral vision and pull him to her side.

Carol was obviously flustered and it was endearing to him to watch her trying to let the woman down easy. The woman finally left, graciously, and Carol looked up at Daryl like a deer caught in his headlights. He couldn't help but chuckle, the tension of the evening breaking like a dam, a sense of ease flooding his body

"Well, I can't blame her. She's got great taste," he leaned towards Carol as he handed her the mixed drink, winking at her. He edged closer and bent to her ear, whispering, "but I know something that tastes even better...," he trailed off and leaned back, just in time to see Carol choke on her drink, her cheeks matching the color of her shirt. He had found his footing. Maybe he could do this after all.

Aaron introduced himself to Carol and welcomed her to the bar, before scooting over to Tara and Alisha to welcome them and chat for a bit.

Daryl nursed the beer Aaron had brought over for him, enjoying just being in the same space as Carol. She electrified the very air around him and left his senses tingling. He felt alive and energized in her presence. The music amped up from the deejay's booth and he saw Carol moving to the beat, swaying her curvaceous hips as her mouth closed over the end of her straw, slowly sipping at her drink, and then delicately, sinfully, darting her tongue out to run over her lips, sweeping up the stray drops of sweet liquid.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, she was such a vision. He felt flames of lust lick up his body, setting him ablaze with desire, and he found himself trying to do complex long division in his head to keep from sporting a painful erection. He was losing the battle.

The girls headed out to the dance floor and Carol looked up at him, entreating him silently to join her, but he just shook his head, and motioned down to his arm in the cast.

"Just too hard." He tried to explain when she couldn't quite mask her disappointment. God, how he wanted to dance with her, put his hands on her, feel her body grinding up on his, but that was the last thing he needed right now. His dick already had a mind of its own, and that would make it ten times worse. Carol quirked her mouth in a sultry grin and he waited for the teasing remark he knew would follow.

"I'm pretty sure there's a 'that's what she said' joke in there somewhere," she smirked at him as she turned to the dance floor to meet up with Tara and Alisha. He couldn't keep his laugh contained. She was a spitfire and he loved it.

The girls were dancing and laughing, enjoying the music when a new song came on, and he saw Carol stop where she was and look over at him, a calculating gleam in her eyes. Whatever she was planning, he knew it didn't bode well for his self control.

The beat thumped and she came over to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the floor, not giving him a chance to argue. He felt completely out of his element, sure he looked like a fool, but she didn't give him a chance to focus on that because as soon as they reached Tara and Alisha she started to dance again, mouthing along to the words as she swivelled her hips. She ran her hands over her body, down her sides and back up again, moving to the music.

**_"I'm too hot..."_**

Good God that was an understatement. He was sure he was standing there with his mouth hanging open.

**_"...call the police and fireman..."_**

She emphasized the word 'fireman' by running her index finger down the front of his chest before she turned on her heel and backed up into him, pulling his hand to her hip.

**_"I'm too hot..."_**

"Hot DAMN," Daryl gasped as she grinded her ass into his front and he jerked, instantly hard.

He grabbed her hand and turned, leading her off the dance floor and back to the corner where their table was, ducking into the small hallway leading to the fire exit. Heart pounding and blood roaring in his ears, they came to a stop for only a moment before he had her up against the wall, lips pressed to hers, hungrily devouring her, sliding his tongue in and out of her mouth. She responded eagerly, matching his fervor, all hot and warm and tasting of citrus and peaches.

He pressed his body against the full length of her, feeling her hands gripping his hips and pulling him even closer. He braced himself with his good arm, forearm pressed against the rough brick at her back, not even feeling the tiny points and pricks scratching at his skin. All he could feel, smell, taste and see was her. She was all around him, overwhelming him, wreaking havoc on his senses and he felt his body responding a little toomuch. He pulled back, trying to catch his breath as he looked down at her. Her face was flushed, her nipples so hard he could feel them through her shirt, and he only had one thought, a thought which he saw mirrored in her eyes as she stared heatedly back at him.

She reached up and locked her hands behind his neck, pulling him down for another fiery kiss, one that left him straining against his pants, and cursing the broken arm that he couldn't use to hold her against him.

Carol finally broke the kiss, panting and struggling to breathe and talk at the same time.

"I think we should probably...probably we should...we need to...we should take it...slow," she finally managed to get the words out.

Daryl leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, eyes closed as he breathed in her scent and felt her warm breath ghost across his face.

"Yeah, we should."

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, willing their bodies and heart rates to calm down, simply enjoying the feeling of touching one another. He felt Carol shift beneath him and he pulled back, looking into her eyes, seeing the desire still blazing in their depths, blue flames dancing in the darkness.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that night wasn't a fluke," Carol murmured lightly, her fingers dancing down his neck and playing over his shoulders, feeling the tremor of his muscles under the weight of his self-imposed restraint.

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"I think that'd be an understatement."

"Maybe next time we go out we should pick somewhere less...tempting?"

"Next time? That mean there's gonna be a second date?"

"How else are we going to get to the third date?" Carol feigned a look of innocence but Daryl could see the lust in her eyes, waiting for him to ask.

"Third date, huh?" He barely contained his grin, playing along with her.

"I'm sure you know all about the third date rule...," she baited him, fluttering her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

"I'm not sure I'm all that familiar with it," he drawled, his gravelly voice rumbling in her ear as he bent down. "You better explain it to me..._in detail_."


	10. The First Generation

_**AN: The inspirations I drew from for the hospital, and for the train depot. The hospital described comes from the The Georgian Hospital Atlanta. The train depot is described from The Cornelia Historic Train Depot  
**_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All things disclaimed. **

* * *

The tour bus pulled up to the gates, rolling to a stop as the guards slid the heavy steel doors aside and the bus pulled through, rumbling along the dirt road to a small parking area roped off on the side, just before the tree line. The passengers disembarked, stretching their limbs and looking all around them at the rundown houses and decaying brick buildings in the forgotten "Ghost Town" they were getting ready to tour.

"Alright, honeys, my name is Jacqui and I'm gonna be your guide today. We're gonna start over here with the jail, work our way to the other end of town visiting the train depot, then make our way back, ending up at the hospital. Stick together, some of the buildings are dangerous, and even though you signed releases back at the office, we don't want anyone to get injured, okay? Any questions? No? Okay folks, follow me!"

The petite woman with dark, short hair and a brilliant smile turned to lead the group towards the first building, people slowly trailing her, automatically breaking up into smaller groups of twos and threes.

Daryl and Carol hung back a ways, not liking to be crowded around, and Carol took her time soaking in the surroundings as they walked, feeling the breeze blow lightly around the buildings, kicking up dust and leaves, skittering across the broken sidewalks and windswept streets. They approached the main "street" through town and she saw the storefronts with broken windows boarded up, and signs hanging over them by a few nails, looking as if one gust would rip them down. One sign was actually swinging in the wind, "Woodbury Soda Sho_," the last couple of letters having been faded and worn off.

Daryl kept glancing over to Carol nervously, trying to get a read from her facial expression what she was thinking about his idea for their "date."

"You're, uh, pretty quiet over there. Everything alright?" He finally gave in, just asking her what he wanted to know.

"Yeah." She looked over, her beautiful smile lighting up her face, "This place is so...unique! I've never been on a "Ghost Walk" before. How'd you find out about this?"

"Jacqui up there," he pointed towards the front with his good arm, "used to live next door. Sometimes, when I was by myself, she'd bring me along on the tours. I know every inch of this place like the back of my hand." He almost seemed proud of the fact.

"So you know all the ghosts here, huh?" She nudged him in the arm, "You gonna protect me from them?"

He blushed sheepishly and glanced over at her, marveling at the gleam in her eyes, how they twinkled and sparkled mischievously. She was teasing him. It took him a second to think up a response, wanting to give as good as he got.

"Awww, do ghosts scare ya? I bet you're scared of monsters too, aren't ya?"

"Of course," she giggled and then feigned a damsel in distress pose, touching the back of her hand to her forehead, "please rescue me from all the big, bad monsters. I'm soooo scared." She looked sideways at him, expectantly, with a grin on her face, waiting for him to continue with the ruse.

He laughed, then played along, schooling his face into a serious glare and deepening his voice to a growl that sounded somewhat like a cross between Batman and John Wayne.

"Don't worry, pretty lady. I'll save ya from all the scary monsters out there."

She burst out laughing breaking the scene and he looked at her in mock offense.

"You are a funny man, Daryl Dixon," she smiled at him sincerely. "You know the way to win a girl's heart is to make her laugh, right?"

"Is that so?" Daryl smirked suggestively, "I always thought it was to-"

"Shhhhhh!" Carol interrupted him, squeezing his bicep as an elderly lady passed by them with her husband, then chuckled when they were out of hearing distance. "You are so bad."

"Yeah, yeah, you like it, though," he remarked, glancing down to where her hand was still resting on his arm, unaware that she was caressing his muscle as it flexed beneath her fingertips.

Her cheeks flushed when she realized what had caught his attention and she dropped her arm, but he stopped her, taking her hand in his.

"You don't have to stop," he stated quietly, "I like your hands on me."

She turned her hand, intertwining her fingers through his, "Like this?"

"Yeah," he murmured happily, "jus' like that.

* * *

"Right here we have what used to be the jail for this town and the surrounding areas. Built in 1895, it was in use up until the mid 50's, right around the time the Blake fire destroyed most of the businesses and houses on the other side of the railroad and the train depot. The majority of folks around here relocated to the nearest town to start over. Hilltop still flourishes to this day, a lovely community, while all that's left of this once quaint town are ruins and stories." Jacqui narrated as they passed by a large stone structure, dark and foreboding. "The locals say that the jail is haunted by a former physician to the inmates who was killed by a lunatic prisoner during a sick visit. The gruesome details vary depending on who's telling the story, but the instances of sightings in this location have all included the apparition of a headless body in the infirmary."

At the last bit, Carol shuddered and Daryl felt it vibrate through his hand and up his arm. He squeezed her hand gently and whispered, "You okay?"

"Yeah, that's just...incredibly sad," she lamented and moved a little closer to Daryl, nudging into his body, just wanting to feel him close by her.

"Over here on the wall we have some photos from the time the jail was in use, in addition to some pictures that some say show evidence of the apparition," Jacqui continued as the group paused at a display covered in plexiglass that stood in front of the building.

Daryl leaned down to Carol as the people milled around taking turns looking over the photos and taking pictures of the jail. "Yeah, but if they were all happy stories, there wouldn't be no ghosts now would there? Who'd want to stick around down here hauntin' people and shit if you could be off playing harps in the sky?"

Carol smiled at his oversimplification, appreciating his attempt trying to make her feel better.

"Harps, huh? I think I'd prefer a flute myself. It's smaller. Easier to carry with me on my inter-cloud travels...," Carol winked at him.

"Plan on a lot of travelin' in the afterlife?"

"Well, there's gotta be more than just playing musical instruments...maybe I'll sneak off to visit my supernatural boyfriend," Carol teased, fishing to see what he would say to that.

"Supernatural boyfriend, huh? Not sure I can compete with that," he paused for a minute as he thought of something to say, needing to gather his courage to even say it, palms getting sweaty just at the thought of it. He waited, ensuring he had her attention, and finally in a low voice drawled, "I'm pretty sure our first night together was the closest I'm ever getting to heaven."

His cheeks reddened as soon as the words passed his lips, and he waited for her response, looking down at his feet. When he didn't hear anything for a few seconds, he felt even more embarrassed and tried to backtrack.

"I know that's prob'ly the cheesiest thing you ever heard, I'm not real good with-."

He was cut off as she whirled him to face her, hands reaching up to cup his face.

"That was the _sweetest_ thing a man has _ever said _to me. You just rendered me speechless," she said as she tipped her head and kissed him lightly on the lips. Just a peck because she knew what could happen if they let their hormones get away from them.

"We better get to moving or we're gonna get left behind," Carol observed as they saw the people moving on from the jail.

" S'alright," he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I know the boss lady. We can come back anytime, have our own _private_ tour." Carol giggled at that. "Besides, I already told you, I know this place like the back of my hand. Ain't gonna get lost."

"Is that so?" Carol leaned into him, running her fingers up his chest and around his neck until they were tangled in the back of his hair. She raised her chin, her mouth inches from his, his breath ghosting over her lips.

"I guess one more kiss wouldn't-"

Daryl's mouth interrupted her, his lips tangling with hers in a hungry, passionate kiss. Lord, could he kiss. The things he could do his mouth, his tongue...her thoughts went sideways in a hot minute. She really needed some self control.

As quickly as his mouth had captured hers, he was releasing her that much quicker, stepping back, breathing heavily.

"This place was supposed to be a lot less temptin.' That even possible with you?" Daryl muttered, and Carol laughed. She grabbed his hand in hers again and pulled him along with her.

"Sooner we're done here is the sooner we're closer to date three," she motivated Daryl and he picked up his pace.

They quickly caught up to the rest of the group. Walking through the town, hand in hand, she could just see the long ago summer nights playing out before her eyes: small houses with white picket fences, children laughing and playing, chasing fireflies, parades through town, fireworks, and summer barbecues. She sighed dreamily and leaned her head against Daryl's strong arm as they walked.

* * *

When they reached the train depot, she stared in awe at the grand station. If what it looked like now, run down and ruined, was any clue as to how it used to look, then it had been glorious in its heyday. The large rectangular building looked to have once been whitewashed, but was now dingy and gray with age. The roof had been a bright red, but now looked a dull brownish color, like the color of old blood, faded in places where it was almost orange from the sun beating down on it. There was a wrought iron railing surrounding the building, most of the platform, and the stairs to the door of the ticket office. The tall square windows, most of which had no glass or broken panes of glass, lined the sides of the station and you could see the old wooden benches inside, some parts dusty and some rotten with mold and mildew from the elements. It was beautiful but vaguely disquieting as well.

The place had an air about it that unsettled Carol; she felt chilled, even in the sun. She moved closer to Daryl, and this time he put his arm around her.

"Daryl, this place...there's definitely something spooky here," Carol whispered to him.

He squeezed her shoulder, and nodded to Jacqui who was finishing up talking about the depot's history and starting in on the "ghost story."

"This one's rough. Lemme know if it's too much for ya," and they fixed their attention on the woman at the front of the group.

"The apparition that is said to appear here is that of a young man. One who used to work here at the depot in the late 1800's. He and his wife were getting ready to embark on their honeymoon when she was taken hostage by a bank robber making his escape. He hopped the train with the young woman and the husband chased after them. In the pursuit he managed to grab a hold of his wife's hand, and refused to let go even when the thief pushed him from the train. He got caught between the train cars, losing his arm in the process, before falling to the side of the tracks. He bled out not far from this depot. They never found his wife's body. Rumors were that the thief kept her hostage, holed up in the woods somewhere," at this Jacqui's voice lowered and wavered the tiniest bit, choking on emotion, "eventually becoming so desperate for food that he cannibalized her. "

"Of course, those were just rumors at the time, that have passed down through the generations," she pointed out another plexiglass covered display attached to the railing. "There you can see information about the bank robbery that took place, the thief responsible, and the young couple who paid the price."

Jacqui approached the edge of the platform, looking down the tracks off into the distance. "It's said that he wanders along the tracks searching for her. Some have even reported hearing a voice calling out the wife's name."

A voice from the group called out from the side of the room, "What's the name? She isn't named on these papers."

Jacqui looked back at the group, cleared her throat and resumed her professional demeanor, shrugging off the emotions that seemed to emanate from this place.

"Her name was Karen."

* * *

"Oh my gosh, that is awful," Carol shivered as the group left the train depot. "What a horrible thing to happen. To just be starting out, embarking on a new journey together, and have it all be over in the blink of an eye," her eyes welled up, and he could hear the melancholy in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up. This was a horrible idea for a date...I just wasn't thinking," Daryl lamented as he kicked a rock with the toe of his boot.

"No! No, you didn't," Carol said as she crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed them, trying to keep warm. "This is a wonderful date. It's original, and interesting, and unique...," she looked up at him, "just like the guy who thought of it." She smiled at him, letting him see she spoke the truth and wasn't just trying to make him feel better.

"All the same, next time I'm gonna let you choose what we do, even if it's going to see a chick flick or somethin'."

"I certainly am not going to turn down an offer like that," she nudged him in his arm. "What if I just want to sit at home and watch '_Dirty Dancing_?'"

Daryl groaned out loud, "Yeah, even '_Dirty Dancing._'"

"_Pretty Woman_?" She pushed even further.

He looked over at her and shook his head, "I'm gonna regret this ain't I?"

"It was _your _idea." Carol shrugged, grinning at him.

* * *

The last building they approached as they made their way back to the tour bus was the old hospital downtown. The severe looking, four-story, gray structure stood towering over the group as they gathered in front of the crumbling columns on the sidewalk. The arched windows and doors across the veranda were all boarded up, as if afraid their secrets would spill out onto the broken and jagged steps.

"Okay folks, this is the last stop on our tour and I got to warn you that the story with this particular hospital is not for the faint of heart." Jacqui turned and looked at Daryl, with a meaningful nod toward Carol, and then began her speech.

Daryl embraced Carol, wrapping his arm around her once more, pulling her into his waist, and resting his cheek on her head, turned his attention to the woman who had helped him through so much when he was younger.

"This story starts off in the early 1900's, when the mayor of this fine town found out he and his wife were expecting a child. He was overjoyed about the news but soon discovered that the true parentage of his child belonged to none other than his best friend, the town judge. The resulting emotional trauma his wife sustained from the blow-out landed her in the hospital, where she remained bed-ridden for the rest of her pregnancy. Her husband said she was too weak for visitors and allowed no one to see her, so as "not to distress her and harm the baby." Since he was the mayor, no one dared go against him. Not even the judge could get in to see her."

The look of disgust on Jacqui's face spoke plain as day her feelings regarding what could be done to women in a time period where they had no rights to their own bodies. She looked as if she would be sick.

"When the time came for the baby to be born, there were "complications," but the baby was delivered safely, and the man took the baby and left. What happened next came from one of the nurses' eyewitness accounts. The doctor had had to perform a then rare, and risky procedure to deliver the baby. Today it's known as a C-section. When the wife discovered her baby was gone, taken from her, she became hysterical and rightfully so. She grabbed an instrument in the room and began tearing at her stitches, insisting they give her the baby. She bled out before the doctor could repair the damage she had done," Jacqui paused for a moment to take a sip of water, masking the fact that she was dabbing at her eyes, before continuing the harrowing tale.

"People began to report seeing a dark haired woman with a bloody midsection lingering in the rooms of newborns, and there were several instances over the next few months of infants born in the hospital, dying for reasons that no one was able to explain. The hospital was shut down a few months later. Neighboring residents in the town said they could hear babies crying at night, complained the cries were coming from the hospital. After that, all the windows, doors, and exits were boarded up and sealed tight."

There had been many gasps and several people muttering and whispering at the horrific tale. Carol looked up at Daryl, and his face was so angry that it took her a moment to remember what she had been about to say. He didn't even see Jacqui glancing over at him, a look of sad understanding passing over her face before she turned to lead the group away.

"Hey," she said softly, "you okay?"

It took a moment for him to answer, he seemed almost out of it, but he came back to himself, and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

"You don't sound so sure," she softly stroked the arm he had wrapped around her, quietly waiting for him to come to terms with whatever was going through his mind.

"I just...I just always think it'll get easier to hear that story. But it never does...," he trailed off again, staring up at the building, and she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a flicker of white hot rage and immense sorrow, and that quickly it was extinguished again. His arm tightened around her as they turned to follow the group back to the bus.

"Daryl, I'm not trying to pry or anything, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but is there something about that story that you're not telling me?"

He let out a deep sigh as they walked, his head drooping and watching his feet as they crossed the parking lot, feet scuffing and crunching against hot gravel.

"That woman in the story?" He finally looked up at her, and the pain she saw in his eyes broke her heart. "That woman's name was Lori. The baby? It was a girl. Name was Judith," he took a deep breath and spilled the rest, "Judith is my grandmama."


	11. First Cut is the Deepest

**AN: I apologize that I haven't updated this fic in so long. The last month has been extremely difficult caregiving for my father. He passed away a week and a half ago. It's been hard to have any time, motivation, or to be in the right mindset to write, so I thank you so much for your patience, and for sticking with me! **

**Thank you to Meeshie and Naomi for being my betas, and for keeping me sane and on track with this story! Love you bbys **

* * *

"Judith was my grandmama."

"Oh!" Carol gasped, her heart clenching at the revelation, "I'm so sorry! That...that's awful." She really didn't know what else to say, so she settled for laying her hand in the middle of his back, just a gentle touch to let him know she was there. The feather light caress burned through his shirt, warming his skin, grounding him there with her.

They boarded the bus back to the office, and took their places near the back of the bus, surrounded by empty seats, most people having chosen to sit closer to the front. Carol's brain whirred, trying to figure out a way to delicately handle the situation. It was a heavy thing, what he had told her. The kind of thing that could hang a cloud over the rest of the day if not dealt with sensitively.

"It's still early," Carol offered. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"Sure," Daryl looked happy to talk about other things, "Wanna go somewhere for drinks?" He didn't miss the slight grimace that crossed her face or the tiniest flinch of her hand.

"Um, well...would...could you...can we go out for ice cream maybe?" Carol asked nervously, "I know both times you've seen me, alcohol was involved but I'm not much of a drinker." She twisted her hands in her lap, playing with her thumb ring and running her fingers over the smooth metal.

"Ice cream sounds good," Daryl didn't mention her strange reactions, just nodded his head. "You have any place in particular in mind?"

Carol relaxed, thankful that he wasn't the type to ask all sorts of questions. She rubbed her palms across her thighs, trying to wipe off the sweat.

"There's a little place just down the street from the main tour office. We can walk there; it's not too far." She motioned to his arm when he looked her way. They had met at the tour headquarters for the date. Perks of living in a small town was that the office wasn't far from Daryl's place so he didn't have to worry about driving.

* * *

"I'll have a medium chocolate and vanilla twist, on a cone, please?" Carol asked through the screen at the ice cream stand. She glanced over at Daryl and he leaned down placing his own order.

"I'll take the same," he smirked at Carol as he went to pay for the treats, but the effect was ruined by his one-handed struggle with his wallet. She giggled as she took both the cones from the boy behind the counter and waited for Daryl to conquer his leather-bound foe.

She passed him his ice cream and they started to walk towards the town square as they savored the sweet frozen confection. It was an easy silence between them, broken only by the breathy sounds of enjoyment after each swipe of ice cream melted on their tongues.

Daryl glanced over at Carol, thinking to say something, but his brain short-circuited at the sight of Carol's tongue peeking out of her mouth, licking a stripe up the side of her cone. Any thoughts he'd had to make intelligent or even unintelligent conversation flew right out of his head. _Along with the ability to eat his own damn ice cream,_ he thought belatedly when he missed his mouth completely and smashed the cone right into his cheek because he was too caught up in watching her mouth.

He'd let out a startled squeal upon feeling the sudden chill on his skin, and the sound drew Carol's attention. He tried to wipe the mess off with the napkin he held in the same hand as his cone, unwittingly creating even more of a mess, and smearing some of the sticky, sweet substance on the tip of his nose.

He was sure he looked as much of an idiot as he felt at the moment, his face and ears burning with embarrassment. First he couldn't even manage his wallet, and now he was worse than a toddler making a mess of his food. _Shit!_

His appearance caused a laugh to burst forth from her, sheer joy sparkling in her eyes, and he felt a bit of relief that she didn't seem to be disgusted by him. Her good natured humor and laughter sparked an idea in his brain.

Using the back of his hand, he swiped at the mess on his face before asking her, "Did I get it all?"

"You missed a spot," Carol pointed at the corner of his mouth.

He reached up and wiped the other side of face, completely missing the ice cream, then shot her a grin.

"What about now?"

"Nope, still there," Carol said, returning his grin but not bothering to gesture this time.

"How about now?" He winked as he brought his hand across his chin, coming up with nothing.

"Here," Carol giggled, "Let me get it before you make it worse."

Her laughter faded as she reached her finger up to the corner of his mouth and swiped the dob of cream onto her fingertip, boldly meeting his eyes with hers. She stuck her finger into her mouth up to her knuckle and swirled her tongue around the end, savoring the mixture of sweet ice cream and the salt of his sweat, a flavor that was unique to him and sent flames of heat licking through her veins. She slowly drew her finger out, her lips popping at the end.

He stood there, melting ice cream dripping further down the cone onto his hand, eyes and mouth agape, skin flushed and heart racing as he tried to tamp down the lust coursing through him at the sight before him.

He tried to talk but all he could manage was a choking gasp. He sputtered for a few moments, like a fish floundering on the bank of a river, mouth opening and closing, before he felt the cold trail of liquid down the inside of his wrist, and he brought his arm up to lick it off.

"We better get this stuff eaten b'fore we get it all over the place," he said hoarsely as he turned, dragging his eyes away from her, and led the way over to the park bench beneath the trees, willing himself to keep it together.

* * *

The two of them sat there and finished off their ice cream, sneaking sidelong glances at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking.

"Do you want to talk about her?" Carol finally asked the question that had been nagging at her since they left the abandoned hospital. "I mean, no pressure if you don't want to, but if you do want to, I'm a good listener," she offered with a sincere smile.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I'd rather hear about you," he turned slightly, focusing his attention on her, noticing how the sun had caused her freckles to pop along her collarbone and across her cheeks.

"What would you like to know?"

He shrugged, not sure really what to ask, just knew that he wanted to learn as much about her as he could.

"Anything really. How'd you meet Alicia and Tara?"

She leaned back against the bench, crossing her legs smoothly, and turning her body to face him. She looked into his eyes, losing herself momentarily in their clear blue depths before she took a breath and answered his question.

"I work with Tara's sister, Lilly. One night she invited me out for drinks to Tara's bar. Even though I don't care for drinking all that much, I was new at the hospital and wanted to get to know some people, so I went with her. That was all she wrote. Tara and I hit it off and we've been close ever since. I was there the night Zach introduced Alicia to her."

He nodded, biting his lip for a second as he contemplated what she had told him.

"Do ya mind if I ask why? Is there a reason why you don't like drinking? I mean, it ain't none of my business, I'm just curious is all. You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he shrugged as he nervously awaited her answer, hoping he hadn't overstepped his bounds. He had seen her at the wedding and the bar, and she had seemed like she was fine. Never gave a hint that she had a problem with alcohol, and he was hoping like hell she wasn't regretting anything that had occurred between them, even though she didn't act like she did.

"It's kinda a long story."

"I ain't got anywhere else to be," he offered, fixing his attention on her.

"When I was in college I got into a relationship with this guy. He seemed perfectly nice at first," she looked down at her hand resting in her lap and he watched as she twisted her thumb ring in circles with her index finger. "He liked to drink. A lot. He started getting mean when he'd drink."

Daryl stiffened at that revelation but didn't say anything, letting her continue.

"He'd say things. I just figured it was the alcohol, but then he started being weird when he was sober. Wanted to know where I was all the time, always checking on me. He didn't like my girlfriends and didn't want me going out with them. He hated that I was so set on finishing school because he said it took up all my time, and I didn't have time for him. He even tried to get me to drop out. That was the final straw."

She looked up at him at that point, her eyes watery and shining with a few unshed tears, and spoke her next words with heartfelt conviction.

"I wasn't about to let anyone deter me from doing what I needed to do, what I _wanted _to do. I broke it off with him. He didn't handle it well. He was so hateful and that was the first time he got violent with me," she shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"_Sonofabitch,_" Daryl growled in a low, harsh voice, anger warring with sorrow at what she was telling him, and the memories it was resurrecting. He took a heavy breath, his mind spinning as he tried to process what she was telling him.

"The police came then, and the scare of possible jail time combined with a restraining order finally got through to him." Carol looked away, focusing on the muted autumn colors of the leaves on the trees swaying in the humid, sticky breeze.

"I know not everyone is like that, that the alcohol only allowed what was really inside of him all along to come out and be visible. At least that was what my therapist told me at the time. It's harder to reconcile and differentiate in real life though," she paused, as if she could sense what he was thinking and feeling. She placed her hand softly on his arm, the muscles beneath her fingertips automatically flexing under her delicate touch.

"I feel like I can trust you," she gently squeezed his arm. "I don't usually drink unless I'm comfortable in my environment, or with the people around me," she tried to reassure him. "I just don't want to make it a habit, so I try to limit myself."

"Makes sense," he drawled. "You're pretty amazin.' You know that?"

He looked at her then, and the tortured look behind his eyes spoke of pain and grief so intense that it took her breath away before he looked back down at his lap. He sat quietly, so still she would never have known how his mind was racing.

"Not everyone can do what you did," he spoke softly. He coughed, trying to clear and speak past the emotion that manifested itself as a painful ache in his throat. "S'long as we're talking about it, might as well tell ya about my screwed up past." He took a deep breath, fortifying himself before he began. "Ya heard about Judith back in town. I heard stories as a kid that after her daddy took off with her, he was real controllin'. He wasn't a bad man, really, just didn't want to be blindsided again. He kept a tight leash on her, to the point that when she was a teenager she ran away; all that 'rebellious teenager' shit ya hear about. She ended up gettin' knocked up when she was 16 and then, 'cause of how it was back then, she was forced to marry him."

Carol nodded in sympathy, having read many similar accounts in her _History of Georgia_ class during college. Her professor had devoted several class blocks to the oppression of women in her home state throughout history, in particular how Georgia had been the first state to reject the 19th amendment. Carol had even written a term paper on the topic.

"Randall was a bad dude. Drank all the time, beat on her, and after my dad was born, when he was a bit older, he beat on him too. 'Course growing up like that, being around violence all the time, my dad didn't turn out so great himself. He drowned himself in liquor. Knocked up my mom with my brother Merle during one of his 'spells' as she liked to call them. Pissed him off because he didn't like havin' to spend any of his 'hard-earned money' on anything but booze. Mom kept from having any more kids 'til I showed up ten years later."

He had to take a break at that point. Talking about it and reliving parts of it was harder than he'd ever thought it would be. He just knew though, that if anyone could understand just a bit, it would be her. Plus, he _wanted_ to tell her. He didn't realize that until just then, but he wanted to share his past with her. Not just parts of it, but all of it. All of _himself._

"Mom died when I was 8, in a fire. She'd done her best to protect us up to that point. When she died," his voice wavered slightly, "he let loose on us then. Merle took himself off and joined the Army, left me at home with 'im."

Carol reached down and took his hand in hers, his rough, calloused skin burning itself against her own soft flesh. She couldn't help but notice how much she liked it, liked the way he _felt._ Even though she knew it was wrong to be thinking that right now, she loved the way the toughness of his exterior made her feel safe and protected, while the gentle softness of his heart and spirit made her feel warm and fuzzy. The combination was dynamite to her senses and she had to fight to focus on his next words.

"He got in a bar fight when I was sixteen, got knifed. Died b'fore he reached the hospital. I wasn't even sorry to see him go," Daryl sighed and rubbed his thumb across the side of her hand without even realizing he was doing it. Her touch was soothing, her presence calming.

"That's when Jacqui took me in. I lived with her until after I graduated. She's been like the closest family I've had ever since."

"I could see how close you two are while we were on the tour. I'm glad you had her. She's a lovely woman. Even more so now that I know how she took care of you," Carol shifted to where she could rub her hand along the back of his shoulders. "You're pretty amazing yourself, I hope you know that."

"How's that?"

"You broke the cycle. You're an honorable man. I know we still don't know each other all that well, but I can tell. Even when…," she paused, taking a second to get control over her pounding heart. "Even when we were _together_, you stopped to ask if I was sure. It takes a good person, an _honorable _person, to be respectful like that."

"Any decent person would," he argued.

"Not everyone is decent, Daryl. I think our pasts illustrate that pretty well." Carol continued rubbing her hand along his back, relishing the feel of his warm skin, the heat seeping through the soft fabric of his tee shirt.

It started out as a comforting gesture but slowly transitioned to something more carnal when she brushed her fingers along the back of his neck, fingers combing through his hair. She felt him tremble at her touch and the fact that she could affect him so made her own head swim a little.

"I don't know that an honorable man would be havin' the thoughts I'm having right now," Daryl sighed as she tugged on the ends of his unruly hair, twirling the short strands around her finger.

"Oh really? What thoughts would those be? You should tell me so I can be the judge," Carol teased, lightening the mood.

"Well, since you asked me for ice cream, right now my main thought is: does this count as our third date?"


	12. Second Chances

_"Does this count as our third date?"_

Carol's heart sped up, stomach tightening in delicious anticipation, coupled with smatterings of nervous energy, in response to his question.

"Do you want it to count?" She asked, breathlessness muting her words.

Daryl looked at her with heat blazing in the depth of his eyes, fire and ice combined. He turned and captured her lips with his, his hand going up to cup her cheek and guide the kiss deeper. He was passion and softness combined, his kiss at once both gentle and demanding. It was over far too soon, when he pulled back, looking down into her flushed face, lips rosy and swollen from their kisses.

"Does that answer your question?" Daryl drawled, his voice rough as sandpaper.

Carol peered up at him, "Your place or mine?"

* * *

Daryl stepped in the door behind Carol, taking in the fresh, airy, clean smell of her house and the windows that were open, allowing the breeze to flutter through the curtains. He cast his eyes over the inviting and eclectic mish-mash of living room furniture, chuckling at the lamp next to the couch made out of seashells.

"What's so funny," Carol asked as she turned and caught him looking down at the table.

"That's one hell of an ugly lamp." Daryl answered, unabashedly grinning when he looked up and met her look of outrage. Then her face broke and she laughed along with him.

"Yeah it is, but it was free so I'm not complaining. It was a gift from one of my old neighbors when I first moved here," she shrugged as she hung her purse up by the door and slipped off her shoes, walking towards the kitchen.

"Would you like some lemonade or sweet tea?" Carol leaned back into the room, asking Daryl as he stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

"Sure, lemonade sounds good." He continued his circuit around the space, coming to a stop before a picture of a young, school-aged Carol dressed to the nines in a band uniform, standing on a football field surrounded by other band members. She was holding a flute in her hands, and he chuckled, thinking back to her remarks earlier that day about carrying a flute with her from cloud to cloud. Her eyes were twinkling as she grinned at whoever was taking the photo, and he could see a mouth full of braces, but it didn't dampen her joy one bit. She looked so happy.

He felt her come up beside him, handing him his glass of lemonade. He gave a her a sidelong look, and then cleared his throat.

"Guess ya do have a thing for flutes, don't ya?"

She laughed, and he was struck by how she had changed in the years since the photo, and then again, in some ways she hadn't changed at all. She still had the same beautiful, blue eyes that scrunched in the corners when she smiled. Even though she didn't have braces anymore, she still had the same megawatt grin that could be mischievous and innocent all at once.

"Guess I do," she answered.

They stood there, eyes locked on one another, sipping their drinks as beads of condensation ran down the sides of their glasses. The trails of liquid marked the time passing as they considered each other, each wanting to move forward, and yet not knowing how to get past the last hurdle of awkwardness between them. It was one thing to just go at one another when they were tipsy, or when they knew it couldn't go any further, but now that the possibility stretched out before him, Daryl felt his nerves coiled tighter than any fireman's hose.

Carol could sense his unease and moved to sit down on the couch, inviting him down beside her and placing her glass on the coffee table. Daryl's glass joined hers as he lowered himself next to her, but before he could say anything, she took matters into her own hands and leaned forward, grasping his face in hers. He met her halfway, and their lips melded together sweet and unhurried, exploring each other as they leaned into the embrace. He tasted the tartness of lemons and sweet sugar on her tongue and he deepened the kiss, trying with his good arm to pull her closer into his body.

Daryl maneuvered her onto her knees and had her straddling one of his legs as she shifted further into his chest, being careful of his arm as she wrapped her hands behind his neck and kissed down his jaw. He groaned, unable to help himself as she nibbled at his earlobe before continuing down his neck and back up again, nipping at him and mapping his skin with a slow swirl of her tongue.

He held her tight as he could, tilting his head to the side to give her more room, heat licking from his neck down through his chest and swirling in his belly. There was just something about her. He never felt this way before, not just from _kissing_. And it wasn't even a purely physical reaction.

He pulled her back towards him, already missing the softness of her lips against his own. Her hips tilted, grinding into him and he responded, his hips jerking as he slid his tongue into her mouth, but something felt off to him. She pulled back after a minute, lips swollen and the skin around her mouth red from his stubble.

"Wanna go back to my room?" Carol asked breathlessly, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she stared down at him, heat and desire clear in her eyes. Her skin was flushed and the tips of her ears were pink, the only hint that she was at all nervous.

"Yeah," Daryl croaked out, his voice cracking at the end. Carol clambered off of him and grasped his hand, helping to pull him up from the couch and lead him down the hall to her room.

Her bedroom looked a lot different with the sunbeams bleeding through the leaves of the trees and pouring through her windows, dappling her walls with golden rays. Not that either of them noticed, so caught up in each other as they kissed slowly and surely. They sat down on her bed, and he brushed his hand along the skin just beneath the hem of her shirt. She felt like satin beneath his work worn hands as he stroked along her back, a fierce yearning building up inside him.

Carol lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, pre-empting any struggle Daryl might've had taking it off, before moving her hands to his shirt. She helped him get it over his head, taking extra care to be gentle when pulling it off of his arm. He was struck by the thoughtfulness of her actions and how much she seemed to be so aware of what his injury would allow and disallow.

Their eyes met once more in a look that was filled with longing before his eyes dropped of their own volition to her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling with each lust-laden breath, and he couldn't take his gaze away. His eyes fixed on the sun-kissed skin of her chest and shoulders, dusted with sprinkles of freckles, and he fought the urge to kiss every single one of them. He wanted to taste them, _to learn them_, like a constellation of stars guiding him across the sea and leading him home.

She fidgeted under his intense stare, the air between them thick and heavy. He lifted his hand to her waist, shuddering at the sensation, and leaned in, whispering kisses against her lips before he moved to cup her cheek. His movements were so incredibly soft and tender, considerate even, and her chest squeezed at the way he touched her, as if she were delicate and something to be cherished..._something important._

She scooted back on the bed coming to rest against the pillows and tugged at his hand, bringing him to recline next to her. She resumed kissing him, loving how he went from demanding to gentle, and back to demanding again as he kissed and nibbled, and licked at her lips. This time though, it was her hands ghosting along his chest, bringing back every delicious memory of that first night they were together. Her fingertips glided along his muscles, relishing in every twitch and flex as he responded to her touch. She slid her hand down his abdomen, playing with the waistband of his jeans before slipping beneath them to touch him, earning a strangled huff from Daryl as she grazed him.

She was surprised to find he wasn't as aroused as she thought he'd be. She fit her hand around him, teasing at him, trying to coax a response. His hand came down to undo his pants and joined her, tightening his grasp on her hand, squeezing firmer around his dick, but he still was only semi-hard when she pulled her face back to look at him, questioning in her eyes. His face was blood-red and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Do you not want-"

"No! Ain't that," he cut her off almost immediately, frustration evident in his tone and body language, as he willed his traitorous body to cooperate with him. He couldn't understand what was happening. He wanted her. _Bad._ "I don't...this ain't never happened before." He flushed even more when he realized how that sounded. "I _do_ want you, I don't know why…," his voice trailed off and he started to push back, trying to disentangle himself from her so he could get out of there.

Ever since he'd met her it had been one embarrassing situation after another, but this took the cake. Maybe he was fighting fate, or trying to make something happen when it wasn't meant to be, and he should just let her go.

"'m sorry, I'll get outta here."

"Wait! Is that...is that what you want? Because we could…," Carol trailed off as her eyes rested on his cast. "Are you still taking pain medicine for your arm?"

Daryl whipped his head to look at her, confusion clouding his eyes, and wondering at the sudden change in topics.

"Not a lot. I don't like it, but I took one today because I knew we were gonna be moving around quite a bit." Carol quirked her eyebrow at him, and he quickly amended his statement. "On the tour, I mean."

"Um, well, narcotics can, you know...," she gestured to his pelvis. "Come back here, let me try something." Carol got up and stripped off her pants as he sat back on the bed. She nudged him back and then crawled up his body until he was lying all the way down.

"You don't gotta-," Daryl was having a hard time seeing how she was willing to wait around on him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"I want to," Carol interrupted, her voice strong and determined, but there was understanding and gentleness in her tone.

"Why?" He really didn't get it. He figured most women in this situation would just let the guy leave, not waste any more time on him. Up to this point, he didn't figure he had a whole lot to bring to a relationship anyways, but he'd always been able to at least get it up. Take away great sex, or the likelihood of it, and he just couldn't see why anyone would want him to hang around.

"Because, I think you're worth it." She held him there with her gaze, bracing herself with her hands on the bed on either side of his head, making sure he saw she meant every word before she leaned down touching her lips to his.

"I know just how good it can be with you," she paused before adding with a wink, "And if nothing else, you have a wicked tongue." That garnered a smirk from him, and he marveled once again at her sense of humor and ability to roll with the tide when things got rough. He hadn't known many women like her before in his life, not that he spent a great deal of time around women to begin with, aside from Alisha and Tara. She was amazing. Pure and simple.

She started with a sinfully deep, lusty kiss, savoring the taste and feel of him in her mouth, before sliding her body down his, skin gliding against skin, making sure to brush up against him in every way possible as she kissed down his chest. She teased his nipples, caressing each one in turn with her tongue, sucking and nipping at them, encouraged when he groaned and she could feel twitching against her stomach from his groin. She continued stroking down his abdomen, her fingers skating along his sides, nails scraping over his muscles, doing her best to trip each of his senses, as she grazed her lips along his flesh.

He felt each touch, each kiss, like bolt of lightening to his system, electrifying his skin, overloading him with sensation. She was way too good at this. He felt his body responding, his cock stiffening slightly, and he concentrated on the way she was making him feel, instead of the doubts racing through his head.

When she reached his jeans and she could see the sprinkling of dirty blonde hair below his navel, she slid her hands beneath the waistband of his pants and boxers and pulled them lower. She sat back on her knees, yanking them the rest of the way off before positioning herself over him again.

"You sure you-," his voice whistled out as she closed her mouth over his dick, circling the tip with her tongue.

She used one hand to grip the base of his shaft and twisted her wrist, while her tongue massaged the head, licking, and swirling around the end. His blood rushed south, and along with the garbled noises coming from above her, she felt him harden even more. Continuing to stroke him with her hand, she looked up and met his eyes. He was staring at her, a mix of arousal and wonder lurking in his eyes.

His body felt like he was aflame, and he had enough experience with fire to make that comparison, but there wasn't any pain, just maddening, scorching heat raging through him, fueled not just by her sucking his dick, but also the intention behind it. He still couldn't grasp why she was making the effort. That she was doing this _for him_, to show him how much she felt he was worth it, was more flammable to his blood than the strongest accelerant, more potent than the most powerful aphrodisiac. He stared into her eyes and his body responded so strongly that he was fully erect beneath her fingers in a matter of moments.

He reached her with his hand and beckoned her forward to straddle him. She paused, reaching over and grabbing a condom from the drawer. She rolled it on and moved to guide him into her, but he stopped her with a question.

"What about you?" He asked, with his hand poised at the crux of her thighs. Like hell was he gonna make this all about him. He'd be damned before he'd get off without her.

She answered him by sliding onto his dick, so wet, her body thrumming just from having his cock in her mouth, that she needed no further preparation and her walls squeezed him, gripping his shaft tightly.

"That answer your question?" Carol moaned as she leaned forward and kissed him. He could taste himself on her lips as her tongue swept into his mouth and tangled with his. His hand found her thigh as she sat back up and rocked back and forth on him, establishing a rhythm that was torturously slow, drawing out each stroke.

His thumb brushed the inside of her thigh as she lifted her hips, his brain splintering from the sensations rocketing through his body when she slammed back down on him, speeding up her movements. He moved his hand to her slit and began to circle her clit, her slickness coating his fingers.

She leaned back, hands resting behind her on his upper thighs, and the shift in the angle had him rubbing up against her spot just right. She grinded her hips down on him in circular motions and he gasped as he felt her quivering against his dick, the beginnings of her orgasm spiraling through her.

"_Ohhhhhh,_" Carol whimpered, her thighs shaking in pleasure.

"_Damnnnn_," Daryl groaned, her orgasm triggering his own, his hips jerking and stuttering as he thrust through, his hand gripping her thigh, holding her as close as he could.

Carol slumped forward, catching her breath before lifting herself off and to Daryl's side so she wouldn't crush his arm.

They both stared up at the ceiling, waiting for their bodies to settle down, the sweat cooling on their heated skin. Carol turned to her side so she could look at him, and propped her head up on her elbow. Her hand reached over and brushed his arm, unable to help her need to touch him. He turned his head, moving his hand to capture hers, lacing their fingers together. Sighing, Carol closed her eyes, and soon she was breathing the deep, even sleep of the sexually sated, her trust in him absolute.

Daryl closed his eyes as well, but instead of sleeping, all he could think of was how Carol had responded to his "problem" as if it wasn't a big deal. How she had taken control of the situation without making him feel worthless, and didn't seem to look at him as if he was any less of a man. In fact, it was because she felt he _was_ worth something that she wanted him to stay.

She made him feel worthwhile, and that was better than any orgasm.


	13. The Third Degree

_**Six Weeks Later**_

Carol shrugged her jacket off her shoulders and onto the chair behind her, straightening the necklace she wore over the neckline of her peasant blouse. Glancing at her phone she saw that Tara was running a few minutes late, and she clasped her hands together in her lap, fighting off the urge to text her to see where she was.

Her stomach was in knots, an indescribable feeling of tension and weight hanging over her, like a dreary, gray raincloud following her around. The only problem was she didn't quite know why she felt that way, or how to dispel the feeling. She called Tara up last night and asked her to meet for brunch today, knowing Tara wasn't likely to be awake early on a Sunday morning.

The door opening diverted Carol's attention and she waved Tara over, sighing in relief, simply seeing her friend alleviating some of the emotional burden. Knowing that Tara would listen to her and not judge, just being able to talk about it, made her feel as if her load was already lighter in being shared by another person.

"Sorry 'm late. Knocked my phone off the nightstand and killed the alarm without knowing it. Wouldn't even be here now if Alisha hadn't had to go to work." Tara plopped into the seat across from Carol, shoving her short and messy brunette locks behind her ears. "Did you order yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you to get here," Carol waved the waiter over to get their orders.

Once he had taken their requests, Tara leaned back in her seat, her eyes appraising Carol, and folded her arms across her chest.

"So...what's up?" Tara questioned Carol. "What's with the urgent get together?"

Carol blushed and looked down to her hands in her lap.

"Who said it was urgent? I just asked you to meet me for brunch."

"Yeah, but since when do you throw down spur of the moment invitations? We all know you like to plan things ahead of time, so what's up?" Tara waited, giving Carol time to say what was on her mind.

"I don't...I don't know, okay? I just have this feeling. It's like...I don't know. I can't even explain it." Carol stumbled through her explanation, not really getting anywhere, her thoughts jumbled leaving her tongue-tied.

"Feeling about what?" Tara leaned forward, encouraging Carol to talk it out.

"About...well, about Daryl." Carol looked up hesitantly, a note of caution playing in the edges of her voice.

"Okay, does this feeling have a name? Is it warm and fuzzy? Hot and sweaty? Cold and critical? You gotta give me more to go on."

"I don't know," Carol hedged again, her knotted up feelings coming back in full force. The waiter returned with the orders, and Carol used the distraction to try to quantify her feelings, to try to give them a name. She sipped her orange juice and fiddled with her silverware, waiting for the gentleman to leave them in peace.

"I guess if I had to say...it would be _doubt_," Carol's eyes flicked back down to her plate, studying her toast and apple butter.

"_Doubt_?" Tara asked, a note of shock in her voice. "Doubt about what?"

"I really like him. A lot. I just don't know if I can do this. Maybe...maybe I should just end it now, and get it over with, before either one of us get too caught up in it." Carol grimaced at the tremor in her voice, knowing Tara would hear it and latch onto it.

"Dude, it's been two months, I think you're past not getting caught up. Especially since it's you two," Tara cocked her eyebrow, a speculative gleam in her eye. "Where's this coming from? Why now?"

"Well, you know…," Carol shrugged. "It's not like I have the best track record with guys. And Ed-," Carol was cut off before she could finish.

"Ed was a long time ago. Ed was a piece of shit! Daryl is nothing like Ed. If he was, do you think I would sit by and let you get involved with him?" Tara was incredulous, but was straining to keep her voice at a reasonable level. "I don't care if he is Alisha's partner or not, if he was like Ed, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Tara leveled her gaze on Carol, punctuating each word firmly. "Carol, I've known the man for years."

Carol dropped her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with her best friend.

"I think there is something else going on here, sweetie. Tell me what's really bothering you."

Carol struggled trying to figure out how to start, what to say, where to begin. So she went with the thing she knew was bothering her the most at the moment.

"Daryl's starting back to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, Alisha told me. What's that have to do with anything?" Tara stabbed at a bite of scrambled eggs and hurried to eat them before they got cold.

"I'm scared," Carol spoke softly.

"Oh, hon," Tara's eyes gentled, figuring out why Carol asked to talk to her, specifically.

"He's been hurt. Almost the entire time we've known each other, he's been hurt. He just got the cast off, and he's been doing all this physical rehab. And he goes back tomorrow, right back into that danger," Carol's eyes watered, her voice breaking up and lowering to almost a whisper. "What if I really invest myself in this, really let him in, and then something worse than a broken arm happens? How do you...how do you deal with knowing that Alisha could be hurt at any time? That it might not be just a broken arm and there's a chance she may not come home," Carol's voice thickened with emotion and she dabbed discreetly at her eyes with her napkin. "I like him so much, I couldn't stand it if something happened and he was gone, just like that," Carol snapped her fingers. "I just found him, you know?"

"It's hard," Tara placed her hand over Carol's trapping it on the table between them. "I'm not gonna lie to you, it's one of the hardest fuckin' things I've ever had to deal with. Yeah, it's a risk opening yourself up like that, but really, it's a risk you take in any relationship. It's not always fighting fires that's dangerous." Tara paused to sip her water before adding in a grave tone, "Any time you care for someone you give that person a part of your heart and you have to trust they take care of it. But in the end, all we can do is make sure they know we love them. I tell Alisha every fucking day, every chance I get. She does the same."

"Love? But I don't _love_ Daryl." Carol puzzled out, thinking about what Tara had just said, mulling over the words. "I don't love him. It's just too soon for that...right?" She looked to Tara as if expecting the answers to her question to be written on the woman's forehead.

"I have no idea," Tara shrugged. "Only you can know the answer to that."

This couldn't be love. She had never felt like this with Ed. Well, she had never loved Ed, not really. Is that what this was? She was scared. Everything felt topsy-turvy and out of her control, and she hated that feeling.

Was she ready to deal with the intensity of this _thing_ with her and Daryl? They spent almost all their free time together, or with Tara and Alisha. Sometimes they hung out with Zach and Amy. They laughed, they talked, they had _amazing_ sex. (After that one time, it hadn't been an issue again.) They just seemed to _fit_ together. Seamlessly. And _that_ scared Carol.

He had already taken too deep of a root in her heart. She realized as she sat there in the restaurant with the sounds of glasses clinking around her, and silverware scraping against plates, that it was too late. She was already in this for the long haul.

* * *

Jacqui stood in front of Daryl, hands on each side of his head, running her fingers through his hair and comparing the ends to the make sure they were even. He was perched on a stool in the middle of her kitchen, a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders and clothespinned at the back of his neck. Jacqui took scissors in hand again and finished evening up the ends.

"Lookin' good, honey. Can't even see the scar," Jacqui mused as she turned his head to examine her work.

Daryl grimaced at the reminder. One of the reasons he kept having Jacqui cut his hair was the scar on the side of his head. She always managed to cut it just so that it wasn't visible. Jacqui had been cutting his hair since he was a boy, back before his parents could afford to take him someplace to have it done. After his dad died and Jacqui took him in, she kept cutting his hair for him. And when he was struck in the head by a falling piece of debris on one of his calls, and left with a nasty scar that was too tender to be poked and prodded, she was the only one he trusted with the job.

"Thanks, Jacqui. Don't know what I'd do without ya."

"Starve, probably," Jacqui turned to clean her supplies and zip them back up in the expensive teal and paisley, cloth-covered case that Daryl had gifted her for Mother's Day the first year after he started on the squad. "And look like Chewbacca," she winked over her shoulder at him as he snorted and shook off the towel before taking it off and tossing it in the laundry basket she had set aside.

"Speakin' of starvin', do I smell what I think I smell?" Daryl sniffed around as he looked over and inspected the countertops and oven for the source of the delicious aroma.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jacqui replied, a hint of a grin pulling at the the corner of her mouth. "You think just because you're starting back to work that I would make your favorite dessert or something?"

Daryl snuck up behind Jacqui, where she was busy sweeping up the mess of hair on the floor, and wrapped his arms around her small frame, lifted and twirling her in a circle.

"Daryl Dixon! You better put me down this instant b'fore I wring your neck, and don't think I won't!"

He set Jacqui down and gave her a quick peck on the side of her cheek as he laughed, and in that instant he was struck by how his life had changed and how he had reached the point where Jacqui was no longer the only one he could interact with in this manner. For most of his life she had been the only person he could laugh and play around with, but now...now he found that he could be the same way with Carol. It came so effortlessly and easily with Carol that he hadn't even really noticed until just now. That level of physical comfort and playfulness was something he had been missing from almost every relationship. He wondered what that meant about the two of them and the future of their relationship.

"So, where'd you hide it?" Daryl asked as he was pulled from his thoughts by Jacqui nudging him back away from the pile of hair she was sweeping on the floor.

"It's over on the buffet," she nodded to the other side of the room. "You just hold your horses 'til I'm done with this mess first."

"Yes, ma'am." Daryl drawled, grabbing the dustpan and helping her finish up, before taking her laundry basket to the utility room and setting it on the washing machine. He stopped off to wash his hands before returning to the kitchen to see Jacqui dishing him up a serving of her famous Peach Pound Cake and handing him a glass of cold milk.

"Sit down now, I don't want crumbs all over the floor I just swept," Jacqui ordered him and he chuckled as he sat down to the small table in the breakfast nook, digging into the delicious treat.

They enjoyed their dessert, the silence between them comfortable as they each savored their piece of cake. Daryl finished up his last bite, drained his glass of milk, and stretched his feet out, crossing them at the ankles. He went to fold his hands behind his head, and grimaced at the pulling feeling in his arm, still a little ginger and not used to maneuvering in that way for so long. He placed his hands on his thighs instead, sighing.

"I think I'm gonna need a nap now," he groaned.

"You know where your bedroom is," Jacqui smirked as she gathered the dishes and took them to the sink. She had kept Daryl's bed and dresser in what used to be his room, even though she'd had him paint the walls after he moved out. It was technically a guest room, but she still referred to it as his room.

"Nah, I'm s'posed to meet Carol later. I don't wanna be late."

"How is Miss Carol? I haven't seen her in a while. You plan on bringing her around so I can get to know her a little more?"

"I want to," Daryl's eyes dropped to his lap and he picked at piece of lint on his jeans. "What do you think of Carol? Of what you know so far?"

"She seems like a fine young lady. Smart, kind, seems like she's done well for herself. Knows what she wants," Jacqui's hands splashed in the soapy dishwater, cleaning the plates and silverware. "Why do you want my opinion?"

Daryl got up and made his way to the sink, grabbing a dish towel and drying the dishes as Jacqui rinsed them, then putting them away in the cabinets.

"I was just curious is all. I think...," Daryl coughed, clearing his throat, "I think she could be it you know?" He studiously avoided looking at the woman, waiting nervously on her reaction.

"Why do you think that?" She asked him cautiously.

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. She just...she makes me feel like I'm worth something, ya know? She makes me feel like I have something to offer. She said I was an '_honorable_ _man_?' Ain't that some shit? No one's ever made me feel like that. And she...well, she's already proven that she's willing to stand by me through some...um...well she's probably seen me at my worst and it hasn't scared her off."

"Oh honey." Jacqui turned to him, not caring that her hands were dripping and soapy, and pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaving wet handprints on the back of his shirt. "Finally."

He placed his hands on her back and patted her as she drenched his shirt. When she pulled away and turned back to the sink to drain the dishwater, she dabbed at her eyes with the dishtowel and gained control of emotions.

"I think she's good for you. If she makes you feel like that, then she's just what you need. That's what it takes, ya know? Someone who sees you for just who you are, as you are, and accepts that...accepts you," Jacqui dried her hands on the towel before hanging it on the oven door. "It's all I've ever wished for you, honey."

Daryl nodded, slightly uncomfortable with the display of emotion, but pleased that Jacqui approved of Carol.

"I just hope it's what Carol wants," Daryl murmured.

"Why do you say that? What makes you think she wouldn't?" Jacqui asked, concern lacing her tone as her brow wrinkled in question.

"Just, I don't know...she kinda seems to be a little distant lately. She changes the subject whenever we'd talk about me going back to work. Just seems like she's not quite all in, ya know?" Daryl turned and leaned back against the counter, studying the top of his boots.

"Is it only when you talk about work?"

"That's the only times I've noticed it."

"Well, honey, you were hurt last time you were on a job. Have you thought maybe she's just nervous about you going back to work? That maybe she doesn't want to think about you getting hurt again?" Jacqui placed her hand on Daryl's arm, waiting for him to look up at her. "You can only find out by talking to her about it, but my guess is she's just nervous and worried about you, and if that's the case, it's a good chance it's because she cares about you. Maybe those feelings run deeper than she wants to let on?"

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I guess I can try to talk to her about it later when I see her."

"You do that...," Jacqui trailed off and looked towards her room down the hall. "Wait here, honey. I've got something for you."

Jacqui took off to her room and Daryl could hear shuffling noises and sounds of boxes being moved around before he heard an "Aha," and then Jacqui was coming back into the kitchen.

"Here. I want you to take this," Jacqui held out her hand and Daryl saw a faded red colored square of linen cloth in her hand. He took it from her and held it up, studying the design in the corner, and the white thread binding the edges.

"What is it?"

"It's a handkerchief. My great-grandma, Vi, made it and she embroidered it with the Angel's wings on there. She passed it down to my grandma, who gave it to my mom, who gave it to me."

"I can't take this; this is like an heirloom or somethin'." Daryl tried to hand it back to her and she pushed his arm aside.

"Nonsense, Daryl. I'm giving it to you. You're the closest thing I have to a child of my own, and I want you to have it."

"Jacqui, I can't. I'm not...I'm not your family. You can't just give this to me." Daryl looked at the cloth, his chest squeezing at the words coming from the woman's mouth. The woman who had all but been a mother to him since his own had died.

"Daryl Andrew Dixon! Family isn't about blood. It's not about whether or not you're my biological child. Family is what we make it, and _you're_ my family. It's supposed to help protect the person who has it, and keep them safe. I want you to keep it with you when you're workin'." Jacqui gave him a look that dared him to argue with her.

He leaned over to hug her, wrapping his arms around her and held the handkerchief up to inspect the embroidered wings in the corner of the cloth.

"Besides, you can take it with you when you meet Carol, and maybe talking about it will help you to find out if she's nervous about you getting hurt when you go back to work," she murmured into his chest.

"Yeah, you're right," Daryl cleared his throat and before he pulled away so she couldn't see his face, he said, voice hoarse, "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, honey." She hugged him one last time and then let him go.

He turned to gather the left-over pound cake she had packed up for Carol, and stuck the handkerchief in his back pocket. Then he was out the door waving to her and on his bike, on his way to see Carol.


	14. Third Time is the Charm

**AN: Sorry it took me so long to get to this one. I have no excuses save real life and my muse have not been cooperative in regards to this fic. This is the last "chapter" but there will be an epilogue to follow.**

* * *

"Carol?"

Daryl opened the screen door and kicked his shoes off by the mat.

"In the kitchen," Carol called from the back of the house and he made his way to her, his socks slipping and sliding on her gleaming hardwood floors. He could almost pull a Tom Cruise right there and he bet it would make Carol laugh hysterically.

The windows were open and he could hear the monotonous clacking of a ceiling fan coming from the kitchen. The air was sticky and humid, late Georgia surge of heat and all. The breeze from the windows wasn't doing much. Neither was the fan.

As Daryl entered the kitchen, he could see Carol standing in front of the stove, peering into a pot and looking puzzled. No wonder the house was hot. There was steam pouring off the pots and pans sitting on the burners. Carol brushed the back of one hand across her forehead, dabbing at the sweat beaded there, and shoved her hair back. The ends of her hair were curly and frizzy from the heat and moisture. He chuckled at the sight before him, causing her to glance up in frustration.

"Laugh it up," Carol grumbled.

"What are you doin'?"

Daryl strode towards the stove, and smelled smoke as he neared closer to the oven.

"What's burnin'?"

"_Shit_!"

Carol dropped the ladle on the stove top and grabbed an oven mitt, opening the door and pulling out a pan with a smoking, blackened lump on top.

"That was supposed to be..."

"Garlic bread," Carol answered.

She sat the pan down and turned the oven off while Daryl leaned over the pot in front of him.

"And this was..."

"Spaghetti."

Daryl tried to separate the clump of noodles but quickly gave up, turning off all the stove burners. He turned instead, pulling Carol into his body and wrapping his arms around her, sweaty or no.

"What's the special occasion?" He asked after a beat, murmuring into her ear.

"I just wanted to make you a nice dinner. You're starting back to work tomorrow, and I wanted us to have...just have a special time...before you go back..." Carol trailed off, waving her hand at the mess on the stove, and Daryl noticed her voice held a strange quality to it.

He held her, rubbing her back in gentle, soothing strokes, and thought back over what Jacqui had said to him. Carol had brought up his return to work, which was a topic she had studiously avoided up until this point. He thought maybe that opened a door to steer the conversation in the direction he wanted to go, but he wanted to do it just right. Instead of broaching the failed attempt at a nice dinner, he decided to avoid that, so he didn't embarrass Carol, and talk about his evening with Jacqui instead.

"I went to see Jacqui earlier," Daryl said as he pulled back gently and turned to grab the container of dessert he brought with him.

"Oh! How is she?" Carol brightened at the mention of the sweet woman who meant so much to Daryl.

"She's good. Cut my hair for me-"

"I noticed it was shorter," Carol said, trailing her fingers through it.

"-and she sent over some peach pound cake." Daryl finished, holding it out to Carol to place on her counter.

"Ooh, I can't wait to try some. You've talked about it so often," Carol laughed. She pulled out some dessert plates from the cabinet and grabbed two forks and a knife from the drawer. She cut them both a piece and poured two glasses of ice cold milk for them, wanting nothing more than to escape the muggy confines of the kitchen to the cool, airy living room.

They sat together on her couch, enjoying the treat, and when Daryl was finished he placed his plate on the coffee table and pulled the handkerchief out of his back pocket.

"She gave me this," Daryl said, turning the cloth over and over in his hands, feeling the smooth linen flow between his calloused fingertips. "It was family thing, passed down from her grandmomma or somethin' through the years. S'posed to help protect the person who has it." Daryl's voice got husky at the end, and he felt Carol stiffen next to him at the mention of protection.

"Protection?" Carol's voice wavered, and then Daryl was almost sure Jacqui had been right about the situation.

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Daryl waited for Carol to nod her head before continuing. "Are you scared of me going back to work?"

Carol shot up from the couch at the question and Daryl saw the panic and fear in her eyes, and the hint of something else. She started to pace, wringing her hands a bit, playing with her thumb ring, and Daryl rested his elbows on his knees, waiting patiently for her to respond to his question, knowing she was trying to gather her thoughts.

"Maybe I am scared," Carol admitted, continuing to pace. "Maybe I am scared, and maybe the fact that I'm scared, scares me even more."

Daryl looked at her with confusion written on his face, and she tried to explain.

"We've only been together two months, and almost the whole time you've been hurt. Which isn't a problem at all, but you got hurt at work. And I've let myself care for you, care for you so much, that the fact that you may get hurt again is freaking me out, okay? And the fact that I have all these feelings after only two months is making me even more crazy." Carol moved to sit back down next to him, pausing to take a breath. "Everything is all tangled up together in my mind and I can't make heads or tails of it, but..."

"But what?" Daryl asked softly when she didn't continue right away.

"But...I think I love you."

Carol whispered her confession, squeezing her eyes shut as the words fought their way out, longing to be set free and nurtured by the admission and acceptance. To grow and flourish, hopefully, with feelings that matched her own.

She felt his hand on her cheek and opened her eyes, gasping at the tenderness in his gaze.

"I think I love you, too." He whispered back to her, before meeting her lips in a soft kiss, a caress of his mouth against hers, sealing the confession of his own and punctuating it with loving tenderness.

Their foreheads rested against each other as their panting breaths, laced with notes of peach, mingled before they came together in another kiss. This time it was deeper, hotter, more hungry. They tasted sugar on each other's tongues, and it fed the craving that the admission had unleashed in them.

They needed one another.

Carol needed to feel his heartbeat next to hers, to know he was alive, to feel his vitality, hold him safe in her arms as they shared in ecstasy.

Daryl needed to feel her skin beneath his own, to know that she was here with him physically and mentally-in this for the duration...mind, body, soul. That he was a part of her and she a part of him.

Daryl lifted her off the couch and carried her down the hall to her room, desperate to celebrate their love and savor the feeling of wholeness they found together.

When he reached her bed, he put Carol down on the ivory eyelet duvet and stepped back, keeping his eyes on her while he removed his clothes. She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, breathless from their kisses, and watched as each inch of his skin was revealed to her with every article of clothing that fell to the floor.

She sat up and began to lift her shirt but he stopped her with a touch of his hand.

"Let me?"

His voice was hoarse, gruff with desire, and raw with emotion. She nodded and put her hands back down. There was a sense of nervousness, a vulnerability in the moment that made it feel like their first time...a first time that wasn't brought about by liquor and lust.

He stripped her of her clothes, loving and worshiping her body, showering her with kisses along the way. When at last they were both completely bare, he held her to him, covering her body top to bottom, skin to skin.

He kissed her deeply, imparting his essence unto her and drinking from her at the same time. Her sweet spirit watered his own, quenching his thirst in a way no one and nothing ever had. The heat between them grew until it was almost unbearable.

"_Oh, Daryl, please_!"

Carol's cries grew needier, more demanding, and he longed to give her all of himself, to give her anything she could ever hope to desire.

Her legs parted under him, and he rested against her, his hardness nestled against her heat. He could feel how wet she was and knew she was more than ready for him. He used his hand to guide him to her entrance and barely pushed inside, his body strained and tense with restraint.

"_Look at me._"

She opened her eyes and gazed into his and he noted each twitch and flinch and wrinkle of her delicate skin. He stared deep into her eyes, burning this moment into his memory forever, as he thrust inside fully, filling her completely, and uttering with a tremor in his voice, "_I love you._"

She gripped his shoulders tight, scoring his back with her fingernails as he moved inside of her. She wrapped her ankles around the backs of his thighs, pulling him as close as she could, urging him on. She was shaking like a leaf, or at least she felt like it. She had so many emotions welling up inside of her she swore could explode from the fullness of them and the need to express them.

His arms were resting beside her on the pillow, propped on his elbows, and cupping her head with his hands and holding her to him, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and her shoulder pressing kisses to her skin. He murmured words of love and praise mixed with groans and grunts of pleasure as she met his every thrust measure for measure.

She felt her release approaching and he quickened his pace, bringing her rapidly to the brink with him. Her body contracted around him, dragging him with her into the throes of heavenly bliss.

_"I love you, too." _


	15. Epilogue

**AN: THIS IS IT! I can't say enough about my lovely betas, Meeshie and Illusianation, without whom this story would probably have never been finished. They provided me with endless support, encouragement, and helped me every step of the way. They are amazing! Also, HUGE THANKS to all of my readers! The love you have shown this story makes my heart go pitter-pat. Thank you for sticking with me through it all! **

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**_One Year Later_**

"Hold still! I almost got it fixed," Tara said, struggling to get the boutonniere pinned to Alisha's jacket.

"This is ridiculous. Daryl better be glad I love him." Alisha grumbled the words just as Tara poked the pin through her shirt and accidentally pricked her with the sharp end.

"Ow!"

"Sorry." Tara looked sheepishly at her wife and adjusted the pin, finally getting it in place.

"Have you seen Carol yet?" Tara asked her.

"Nope. Daryl's hardly let me leave his side. Man, his nerves are mess. It's almost adorable. I'm lucky he didn't know the first thing about getting this shit pinned on. How is she?"

Tara sighed, somewhat dreamily, and turned to find what she had done with her bouquet.

"She's nervous, too. But she looks gorgeous. He's gonna shit bricks when he sees her."

"I hope not!" Alisha laughed. "At least not in front of all these people."

Tara bent down shoving the hem of her dress out of her way and grabbed her bouquet from where it had fallen under the chair in the anteroom of the reception hall where she and Alisha had been married a little over a year ago.

"Can't believe they chose the same place to get married." Tara mused as she straightened the skirt of her pale yellow dress, smoothing out the wrinkles in the satin fabric.

"I can. This is where they first met, after all." Alisha looked Tara up and down and stepped closer to her, brushing a lock of hair behind Tara's ear. "Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?"

"No, but it's always nice to hear," Tara answered, then chuckled as she continued, "I'm just glad Carol didn't pick some hideous bubblegum pink, Bo Peep-looking dress."

"You would've rocked it, even if she had."

Alisha stepped in, caressing the back of Tara's neck and gently pulled Tara into her arms, kissing her softly, and slowly. Alisha placed all her love and affection into that kiss, remembering just over a year ago, pledging her own future to the woman in front of her. She couldn't be happier than she was right here in this moment.

"Time to go! Alisha, stop sucking face and get over here," Zach hollered from the side entrance to the ballroom, where the wedding was taking place.

"Looking sharp, Zach," Tara hollered back. "Bet Amy's drooling all over herself."

Zach blushed at the teasing, almost used to it by now.

"Yeah, yeah, get it all out now. We got to go. Daryl'll kill us if we don't get up there. Man's a wreck."

Alisha pecked Tara on the cheek. "Gotta go. Duty calls." She rushed off after Zach, cherishing the fact that Daryl had asked her to stand up with him as his attendant while he pledged himself to the woman of his dreams.

Alisha reached his side, straightened his tie, and then turned to face the people gathered to witness the ceremony.

"You got this," she whispered to him, hoping to calm his nerves a bit.

The music played and Amy made her way down the aisle, followed by Tara, smiles lighting up their faces like the morning sun. Meghan brought up the end of the small processional, dropping white rose petals along the aisle as she walked.

Once they all reached the front, the music changed, and everyone rose and looked to the back. Alisha glanced quickly at Daryl. His eyes were fixed on the doors, staring intently, waiting for the other half of his heart to walk down the aisle to him.

The doors opened and there she was, a vision in white, making her way to him, a bouquet of white roses in her hands. His heart beat rapidly, heat filled his body, and his stomach flipped. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for all his life, even though he never knew he needed it. She reached his side and placed her hand in his.

Carol...his love, his life, his future.

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**Thank you for reading!**

**xoxoxo**


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